Analyze This
by FemmeDraconis
Summary: (CHAP.14 UP)After a confrontation between Ginny and Draco turns serious, the two are forced to spend counseling sessions together. Will they survive it?
1. Chapter One

Authors Notes: Hello, everyone! This is my first fic, but I'm no stranger to the world of fan fiction, I've been reading it for years and finally decided to write one of my own.All reviews are welcome. This is going to be a D/G fic, so if you love Draco and Ginny, enjoy, and if you don't, try it anyway. Without further ado, here goes!

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters in it; they belong to the talented J.K. Rowling. But if you still insist on suing me, think again, you won't get much anyway.

_Analyze This

* * *

_

All was quiet in Gryffindor Tower.

With the absence of Fred and George Weasley, there were no surprise dung bombs setting off to disturb the early morning hours. Everyone laid asleep, dreaming pleasant thoughts of the coming week, or having nightmares of evil professors. Everyone that is, except for one girl.

She tossed and turned all night. Sitting up and punching the sides of her lumpy pillow rather violently, she groaned and eased her head back.

Now it was too fluffy.

She was not a habitual insomniac, but often had nights where she just couldn't go to sleep no matter how hard she tried. Either the sheets weren't warm enough, but the blanket made it too hot, or the pillow was too disfigured, and no amount of hitting it could change its state. Squirming under the scarlet and gold sheets, she tried to find a nice spot in the bed; the patch she was currently in was too warm due to her antics. Shifting onto the other half of the bed, the now frustrated girl reckoned that this side was too cold. But she was determined to find the perfect spot on the bed. Rolling further to the edge of the bed, red hair strewn messily around her, she was almost satisfied. She thought groggily, 'Now I'll _finally_ get some rest. I just need to move over a little-bit-more―'

THUMP!

Her thoughts stopped short, however, when she dropped unceremoniously onto the polished, hard wood floor of the dorm. Rising slowly, albeit painfully, and rubbing her sore backside, the girl cursed herself silently for her stupidity; after all, beds _are_ only so wide... Heaving herself back onto the object of her frustration the girl no longer sought after comfort, only sleep, and let her heavy eyelids close.

All of a sudden her curtains whipped open, bright light pouring in through the broad windows.

"Get up!"

Noticing that the ball curled up in bed was not about to rise any time soon, Lark Piston ripped the covers off of herfriend's tired body and shouted over her shoulder while walking out the door, "Ginevra Weasley, get up or you'll be late for breakfast!"

Ginny resisted the urge to hex the form of her roommate, and now decidedly former friend who disappeared down the stairs to the Common Room.

Rubbing her bleary eyes and eventually getting out of bed, Ginny managed to brush her teeth, unruly hair, and put her clothes on properly (she had put them on backwards– twice). She walked slowly downstairs into the Common Room minutes later and realized that she was the last one in the Tower. Trying to ignore the fact that she had gotten about two minutes of sleep, and then been harassed out of bed, Ginny admired the usual Hogwarts scenery. It was a nice day outside, and she didn't want to spoil it with thoughts of murder.

Light gleamed on the windows, and a breeze flowed throughout the stone walls of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There were few clouds in the sky - a perfect day for flying - and it was a Monday. Mondays gave Ginny a sense of fresh new beginnings, a chance to start the week on a good note. She didn't view it as one of 'Satan's gifts to the world' as her older brother Charlie did after waking up one Monday morning with a gigantic hangover.

After all, Ginny thought, no one told him to drink that Long Island Ice Tea, or even four and a half glasses of it. The Muggle drink, which her Muggle obsessed father insisted on trying, was zero percent tea and one-hundred percent alcohol.

Walking toward the Common Room door and reaching for the handle, Ginny said aloud,

"Yeah, it's Monday. I didn't get any sleep, but I should be properly awake in a few minutes. It's going to be a great―"

Her words were stopped short yet again as the Common Room door unexpectedly shot open, smacking her soundly in the face. Slumping to the ground Ginny tried to make heads or tails of the blurry faces around her. As various people crowded around her, trying to nurse the rapidly swelling bump on her head, bloody nose, and possible concussion, Ginny thought of a Muggle children's book her father once brought home.

It was about a little boy who had everything wrong happen to him in one day. She recalled the words of the young boy and agreed with them. Indeed it was shaping up to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

"For Heaven's sake, Ron, I'm fine!"

Ron Weasley looked down at his sister skeptically. She was laying on a plush, red couch in the common room with a small pillow propping up her feet, and a larger one supporting her head. Thanks to Hermione, all traces of blood were gone from her nose, but the bump still remained. Her healing magic wasn't as strong as Madam Pomfrey's.

"Honestly," she said looking up at him, Harry and Hermione. "There's no need to coddle me." More like suffocate me, she thought. "You've done enough already."

"Hey, I didn't mean to hit you with the door," Ron protested. "But what fool stands behind one? What were you doing, waiting for it to magically open? There are some limitations to the castle, Ginny."

"I was about to open it so I could go down to breakfast." Her stomach grumbled loudly as she glared at him. "Which I missed anyway…"

"Don't blame me! If you had gone down to Madam Pomfrey and–"

"Sure, Ron, and told her what? That my prat of a brother nearly decapitated me with the door?"

"You wouldn't be embarrassed if it was entirely my fault!"

"It's certainly not mine! You come stampeding in here–"

"I wasn't stampeding anywhere!"

"– knock me nearly unconscious–"

"The way you're blabbering now, you seem plenty conscious to me!"

"NO THANKS TO YOU!"

"QUIET!" Hermione ordered. "That's enough!"

"She started it," muttered Ron.

"Look, I already have a headache from the two of you; and if I have one, then Ginny must have a huge one."

"As a matter of fact, I do," she said.

Ron glowered.

"It was an accident," Harry put in. "We were in a hurry and weren't expecting someone to be behind the portrait. You've got to admit that it doesn't happen all that often."

Ginny grudgingly agreed with Harry. The trio was always on some mission or another, cooking up mischief. She was just cranky from lack of sleep, and getting hit with a door only made it worse. With a small smile, she let them take their leave.

"You lot are probably late for what you came here to do. I didn't mean to argue, I'm just a bittired. Go on," she said seeing Ron's uncertain look. "I'm fine."

A few minutes later, after Harry, Ron, and Hermione were gone, Ginny also left to head for her first class: Care of Magical Creatures. Grabbing her bag, she stood, and headed for Hagrid's hut.

* * *

"This day just can't get any worse!" Ginny panted, running around corners and down staircases to the dungeons.

Care of Magical Creatures was fine until she managed to trip over a rock, fall on the makeshift fence thatpicketed the unicorns in, break it, and set them loose. For the entire period she and the rest of her classmates had to chase after the beautiful, but quick, animals. When everyone left, she stayed after to help Hagrid catch the rest -it _was_ her fault.

After another hundred apologies to Hagrid, she realized that she was late for her next class: double Potions with the Slytherins. Sprinting down the halls, her backpack flying half off her shoulder, she chanted,

"Please let him be late, please let him be late…"

Ha! The room was in sight, just past this corridor! Closer she ran; she was almost there. Only a few paces from the entrance…

"You're late."

Professor Snape must not have studied the law of inertia, because if he had, he would have known not to step in the doorway, just as Ginny was running in. He would have known that due to inertia, Ginny running at the speed she was would not be able to stop right away. He also would have known that Ginny would crash right into him, knocking him over, her backpack flying from her hands, knocking student's cauldrons onto the floor, splattering their contents everywhere.

But hey, he was no Madame Trelawney.

"Get – off – me."

"E-excuse me, professor?" stuttered Ginny, still out of breath.

"I said, _get off of me_! This instant, you clumsy fool!"

Hopping off of the raging Snape, Ginny stood nervously and horribly embarrassed in the center of the room. Pointing one spindly finger at her, Snape continued,

"Not only did you come late –"

"I have an excuse!"

"_Silence_! When I wish to be interrupted I'll send you an owl requesting it. Ten points from Gryffindor." Ginny scowled.

"As I was saying," he went on, in an eerily calm voice, "not only did you arrive late to class; you came looking as if you just battled with trolls in the mud. At least if you were to be late and make a circus of my class, you could dress decently." Eyeing her outdated robes he said, "On second thought, with your family's income, how much should I expect?"

Ginny flushed deeply. A few Slytherins snickered.

Walking to the front of the room, Snape took note of the large bump on her head, accentuated by the beads of sweat on her forehead. With the addition of this mishap, it began to take on a purplish hue. Maybe, she thought, I _should_ have gotten it checked out; all I need is to hear Snape start on it.

"What on earth have you done to your face?" he asked.

Standing a bit straighter, Ginny said, "Sir, I'd rather not say."

"Another ten points from Gryffindor.I didn't ask you what you wanted," he hissed. "I asked you what you did."

"This is outrageous!" This indiscreet declaration came from Colin Creevey, one of Ginny's inner circle.

"Another five points from Gryffindor for _your_ impertinence, Mr. Creevey. I really could do this all day but some ofus would like to resume the lesson. Soanswer me now, Miss Weasley."

Knowing that Snape was questing to embarrass her, Ginny stood as straight as possible and answered in a rushed voice,

"This morning going to breakfast I was hit in the head with the common room door." Laughter erupted from the Slytherin side of the room.

"As much as I expected from a Weasley," the Professor said, smirking. "And pray tell why you are late?"

Ginny kept her face impassive. "I set the unicorns loose in Care of Magical Creatures." The Slytherins were now doubled over with laughter; some were even shaking with mirth on the cold floor of the dungeon. The Gryffindors, however, shook with rage. Especially Colin and Lark.

"We've spent enough time dwelling on idiocy," Snape continued. "With a total of thirty-five points taken from Gryffindor due to rudeness," he eyed Colin, "lateness, and a general disregard for rules, I would like to continue with my lesson. Take your seat."

Walking stiffly to her seat, Ginny slammed her books on the table and sat down, her bag lying forgotten in a puddle of murky potion at her feet.

* * *

"It was just _awful_, 'Mione. I don't think I've ever been so embarrassed in my life."

The Trio, Ginny, Colin, and Lark were on their way to the Great Hall for lunch. Summing up the day's events, Ginny walked with one hand over her face.

"Try not to worry about it," said Ron. "As much as I'd like to rub Snape's greasy face in the mud, tear him from limb to limb, pull out his entrails-"

"Ron!" Hermione said reproachfully. "You're not cheering her up, just disgusting her."

"Sorry," he said, with a sheepish grin, the murderous glintin his eyesnow gone. "Anyway, like I said, I'd love to give that spineless git a dose of his own medicine, but I can't. Last time I tried, I ended up cleaning out bedpans from St. Mungos that were specially ordered in for me." He shuddered. "Painful, painful memories."

Harry sniggered. "Yeah, for me too. Your whining and the smell nearly did me in."

Dodging the swipe at his head that Ron sent his way as Hermione smiled, clearly in agreement, Harry sidled over to Ginny's side and put a reassuring arm over her shoulder. "Just try and stay out of his way. And try and get more sleep," he offered. "The havoc you wreak when you don't is terrifying." Ginny nudged him on the shoulder, but was obviously in much better spirits.

"Seeing such happy faces reassures me that life really _is_ worth living."

Until then.

"Oh, yippee," muttered Colin, eyeing the less than welcome presence of Draco Malfoy and his followers, Crabbe and Goyle.

"We're not in the mood, Malfoy," Ron snapped. "Go have no life somewhere else."

Draco ignored him. "Doesn't it bother you, Weasel, that your sister is being handled by Potter, here? I'd expect you to be quite jealous; you don't strike me as the type to want to share. But like they say, 'the more, the merrier.' " Ron went livid and stepped forward, pulling his wand out at the smae time.

"You know, Ferret, it surprises me that you have time to speak such trash. I mean, juggling your attention between your harem, and Crabbe and Goyle must be quite the act, a right mean feat. But you know, like they say, 'the more, the merrier.'"

Draco took pause; that remark had come from Ginny, who was currently holding Ron back with Hermione's help.

"Keep you mouth on Potter, not on matters that don't concern you," he spat, obviously affronted by Ginny's offense. "You're just a waste of space. Don't think I haven't heard about your campaign to set the animals on Hogwarts loose; it only showed that you're obviously lacking in intelligence as well."

Sensing that this was still sensitive ground he smiled cruelly and said, "Oh, don't think I couldn't tell! That monstrosity" - he gestured to the swollen bump on her head - "tells all. You've obviously got as much sense as you have money. After you destroyed your 'robes', or what was already left of them, I can see why you found the need to cozy up next to Scarface here. Hoping to hit him up for a few galleons, eh?"

Stepping closer to Ginny, his towering 6'3 frame dwarfing even her 5'6 stature, he leered suggestively at her. "Or _I_ can always provide. I don't usually go for sloppy seconds, especially not ones beneath me," he was now practically on top of her. Fingering her robes, he concluded, "But I can always make exceptions when it concerns charity. I'm all for altruism." He winked.

All hell went loose.

Harry, Ron, even Colin stepped forward. Crabbe and Goyle went tostand beside their leader. But Ginny raised her arms to hold back the mob of her loyal friends. She was boiling. How _dare_ he?

"Don't dirty your hands," Ron growled. "I'll do it for you."

Draco tapped his temple. "I thought they were quite filthy already."

"You - "

"Ron, I'm _fine_! His two-knut ravings aren't worth a brawl in the corridors that'll score you a detention!"

By now people were starting to stop and stare. "Let's just let it go." As the group behind the redhead's arms hesitated, she pushed them back forcefully. "_Let it go_." Ginny and turned her back on the snickering Slytherin, his laughter following the few steps she took.

"Let it _go_, big brother!"

Ginny told herself to count to ten - but she didn't get past four before she turned back around and walked back to the crowd. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Colin and Lark stopped to watch where Ginny was going. The students in the hallway had resumed milling around, and she was forced to push her way through to Draco. When she reached him, Ginnyprodded his turned back.

Turning around, Draco took note of who it was. "Just couldn't resist me, eh, Weasley? Decided to –"

CRACK!

She didn't know what made her do it. It could have been that her day started off on the wrong foot to begin with; it could have been that she was tired of taking crap from Draco Malfoy and having others stand up for her. It could have been her frustration that Draco didn't see - that half of Hogwarts didn't see - she was completely over Harry, and for a few years at that. It was most likely a combination of _all_those things.

But whatever it was, it made Ginevra Molly Weasley turn around, tap Draco Malfoy on the back as proper as you please, and hit him. No, not some maidenly slap. Not even a hard punch. It was the king of blows.

Her eyes glittered dangerously as Malfoy's head sprang to the side, blood gathering in the corner of his mouth. The crowd once again stopped, watching in awe. The impact of Ginny's knuckles on his jaw caused him to bite down hard on his lip, splitting it open. His body half turned with the force of the punch. Tripping backward a few steps, Draco's hand went mechanically to his face. Everything was silent.

The only thing Ginny could hear was her harsh breathing, and the thumping of her heart beating wildly in her chest with adrenaline. Not even watching Quidditch gave her this rush.

Rushing forward to see what the source of the giant crack! was, Ron's eyes grew large; his disbelieving voice piercing the silence, "What do you know, Ginny?! You decked Malfoy!"

­­­Ginny thought that he could have at least added something melodramatic like, "Weasley's _your_ queen, now, Draco Malfoy!"

But the look on the blond's face told her that it would have been most inappropriate.

* * *

Please review! 

- Femme


	2. Chapter Two

Authors Notes: Thanks to all those who reviewed!

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters in it. They belong to J.K. Rowling.

_Analyze This

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_

After Ron's exclamation, Ginny found herself falling off of Cloud 9

The gravity of what she had just done sank in, and her euphoria was short lived. 'I just assaulted another student...' Along with that realization she felt sudden pain in her hands. Her knuckles were badly bruised and throbbed painfully. 'Damn him and his hard skull.'

That was the least of her problems. When Snape found out that she injured his prize student, she was certain that she would be found in some discreet dungeon, hanging by her ankles, hexed and cursed within an inch of her life. And what would her _mum_ say? Looking down on Draco she noticed that he still sat motionless on the floor and began to worry. 'I didn't think I hit him _that _hard.'

"Oi! Ginny!" Her head jerked toward Ron's voice. "Are you okay?" He walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, trying to get her to focus. To the entire world she just appeared to be inspecting her hands; as if the rapidly appearing bruises on them were nothing more than spilled ink. No one would be able to know the various thoughts and fears that were flying through her. Gripping her shoulders slightly, he stooped a bit to look her in the face.

"Ginny," he repeated. "Are you all right?" She finally met his eyes, as if startled out of a daydream.

"Well, yes…er…I'm fine, Ron." Her voice was very soft.

"Fine? You don't sound fine."

"Well I am!" she snapped, instantly regretting it. "I am fine. Just a bit shocked is all," she admitted.

"I'll say!" Colin blurted out; Lark elbowed him.

Hermione walked over to Ginny and the rest of her friends followed. The corridor was silent once again. No one knew what to say, or think. Draco Malfoy...walloped by a girl? A Gryffindor? A _Weasley_? It would have been less shocking to hear that Snape was secretly in love with Neville Longbottom!

Suddenly, Draco moved.

"So he's not dead," said Ron. "Why does nothing ever go my way?" Hermione elbowed him. "What, don't pretend that you weren't thinking it too." She looked very guilty all of a sudden and turned her attention back on the person on the floor.

"She, she hit me." His voice was slightly slurred. He felt his lip and then looked at his fingers. Blood was smeared on them. "She _hit _me," he repeated. Then the oddest thing happened.

He began to laugh.

It wasn't clear at first, it sounded like he was crying, but gradually, it became more pronounced until he was actually guffawing. With each laugh his jaw twitched unusually, his even features contorting. Laughing was painful, and he realized that, butthe thought only amplified his mirth. Ginny Weasley had hit him!

After a minute he stopped and sobered up.

"What, no one's concerned for me?" he asked. "I mean, she hit me! The scrawny, underfed, low-class, groupie, wench _hit_ me! I'd venture to say my jaw was b-broken."

Audible gasps sounded throughout the hall. Crabbe and Goyle hung back from theirfellow Slytherin,gawping idiotically, not knowing what to do.

"You shouldn't call people names, Malfoy," said Colin bravely. "After what just happened to you –"

"What just happened was that a scraggly weasel scored a lucky punch," he said glaring. "Don't expect that to faze me."

"It obviously did, Malfoy! You're still lying on the floor, aren't you?" Ginny shot out. She was still angry and like Colin said, his name-calling was not alleviating the situation. Normally she was a complacent person who thought before acting. Her sudden rage was a new discovery.

"Don't downplay what I did to you."

Draco looked at her, his gray eyes frosting over completely. Ginny, even with her fury, barely suppressed a shiver from the icy gaze he held her in.

"I cannot believe you have the audacity to even address me," he whispered. "The only reason I'm still on this floor is to keep myself from committing a crime that could land me in Azkaban. Some common tramp isn't worth that."

"I'm not afraid of you, Malfoy," Ginny said, though her voice held a slight tremor.

"Do you know…do you even have any idea of what I could do to you?" he asked,rising slowly. "The willpower that it's taking me not to blast you to bits, to make you writhe in pain–"

"Shove it."

Even Ron sucked in his breath.

Dracostaggered toward Ginny, but Harry came between them.

"Come any closer you prick," he warned. "Come any closer and you'll be sharing Moaning Myrtle's toilet."

"What's this I hear about sharing Myrtle's toilet?"

The Headmaster appeared seemingly out of the blue. With the heated argument going on, no one had noticed his advance. Other footsteps were heard, and with them camethe faces of Snape and Professor McGonagall.

"What is going on here?" Snapedemanded. No one said a word.

"Someone answer me!" His eyes narrowed as they settled on the face of his student, who was now sporting glorious bruises alongside his shattered jaw.

"Don't all speak at once," said McGonagall, observing the 'ready-to-fight' stances of Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Colin, Lark, and Draco.

Still no one said anything.

Then Draco spoke. "Don't feel like spilling, eh, Wonder Boy?" he said to Harry. "You, Weasel and Beaver always have so much to say; always sticking your noses where they don't belong. But I will enlighten the professors, don't worry. You see, I was having a little chat with Potter when all of a sudden Weasley -"

"Ron…" McGonagall started warningly.

"No," Draco corrected. "The girl. As I was saying, she comes out of nowhere – I suppose she wanted to defend Potter's honor – and attacks me –"

"YOU LYING SACK OF–"

"Mr. Weasley, please refrain from using such language in my presence!" McGonagall scolded. "From the state of things it would behoove you and your sister"- Ginny cringed - "to kindly keep silent."

"But –"

"Mr. Weasley, I assure you that things will be ironed out," said Dumbledore calmly. "But by making a fuss it will take much longer." To everyone he said, "As I see before me that there are two factions, I cannot count on a just, accurate account of what has transpired. Therefore I will ask a neutral party."

Calling upon Leah Trout, a meek Hufflepuff fourth-year he asked, "Leah, will you please tell the two professors and me what happened?"

Trembling due to all of the attention and the pressure of offending either Slytherin or Gryffindor, the girl nodded hesitantly.

"Well, Headmaster, sir...I saw Draco Malfoy approach Harry Potter. He spoke and said…well, he said that…" Leah blushed deeply and her narration tapered off. She didn't want to repeat what the words had been. Guessing atthe nature of what Draco's words were, Dumbledore asked her to gloss over that part of the tale. "We shall divulge the details later, my dear. Please continue."

Getting her steam back, Leah continued. "Er, right. So Malfoy said some things. Then Ginny Weasleysaid that…well…she said some things back. Then Draco got mad and said something worse…"

"This is getting us nowhere!" exclaimed Ron. "The arse with the bloody face over there accused my sister of hanging around Harry to…to well, you know, _earn money_. Then he put his filthy hands on her and rightly enough she laid him flat on his back! Now I'll be damned if this Leah – no offense, love – makes it sound like he was asking Ginny the price of peas in Persopolis and not…not _manhandling _her and coming onto her!" When Ron finished his speech, Hermione snorted. His scarlet face and flailing arms would have made the situation comical had it not been so serious.

"Er, well, thank you, Mr. Weasley, for your enlightening account of what happened," Dumbledore said. "You too, Ms. Trout; your's is also appreciated."

Turning to Ginny, who had been silent since he came on the scene, not wanting to incriminate herself further, he said, "Is this true, Ms. Weasley? Did you hit Mr. Malfoy?"

Ginny looked at him with a solemn face.

"Yes. Yes I did, Headmaster," she whispered.

"Why?"

"I…I've just been having the worst day. And I suppose when Malfoy teased me I lost it. I know I shouldn't have! I was just fed up!" She covered her face with her hands. "If I had been thinking straight I wouldn't have broken his jaw –"

Snape and McGonagall gaped.

Ginny wetnt even redder.

"Too true," Ron said. "If you had been thinking straight, you would have kneed him right in the –"

"Ron!" That camefrom Hermione, Harry and McGonagall. "Keep this up and _I'm_ going to...knee you, Ron. This is serious, and all you're doing is making the situation worse."

"I for one have heard enough," Snape said with disgust. "It is obvious that Ms. Weasley behaved barbarically. But I will see to it that she is adequately punished. I would like to deduct 150 points from Gryffindor and put her on suspension from the Quidditch team-" Ginny gasped. "Naturally, she will have to serve detention and be excluded from any future Hogsmeade visits -"

"That is ridiculous, Professor Snape and you know it," McGonagall refuted. "There is no reason why Ms. Weasley shouldn't play Quidditch just because Mr. Malfoy has a foul mouth. She is not entirely to blame. Based on Ms. Trout's eyewitness account -"

"Which was decidedly eloquent," Snape interjected acidly.

"Let us not create more turmoil," Dumbledore interrupted. "This matterwill besettled privately."

Snape and McGonagall glared at each other with unmasked antagonism.

"I mean it. We shall adjourn to my office after supperand rectify the situation there. The students have had enough of a show." Raising his arms in the air to make sure that he captured everyone's attention he said a little louder, "Everyone, either go to your houses or down to lunch. The cooks will be most disappointed if no one partakes of their meal. Mr. Malfoy, please follow me to Madam Pomfrey's office."

Though all were loath to miss any more of the fight, they were obligated to follow the Headmaster's instructions. Within minutes the hallway was clear, leaving only the ones involved in the fight. Giving one last nasty look at the other six, Draco left with Dumbledore.

"C'mon Gin," Lark ordered softly. "You'll feel better after you eat something."

Ginny was pale, making her freckles stand out pointedly. Her hair had whipped around her during the argument, and despite maturation that she had undergone in the past three years, her fear made her look twelve again. Ginny resisted Lark's request.

"It's all right, Lark. I'm not especially hungry." Her hands were clasped together and still in pain, but she dared not go to Madam Pomfrey while Draco was there. "I think I'll go lie down until lunch is over."

"Are you sure?" asked Hermione. "You haven't eaten anything all day…"

"I wouldn't be able to get it down," she responded. "I'm just really tired." Turning away from the worried looks of her friends, she headed for Gryffindor Tower.

"Just make sure not to oversleep, Ginny," called Colin. "Unless you want a repeat of Potions," he joked.

She gave him a small grin. "I won't."

* * *

The day continued as normally as possible for Ginny. Colin and Lark accompanied her to all of her classes at Ron's request. As she had most of her classes with them it wouldn't be a problem.

"It's not safe, Ginny," he reasoned.

Normally she would have protested at her brother's paranoia, but the dirty looks she received from various Slytherins in passing made her decide otherwise.

"Fine," she consented. "But if Lark or Colin are late to any of their classes I'm going to fire them as my bodyguards. We're all on shaky ground with the teachers right now."

Soon, however, Ginny realized that she had Divination and then Arithmancy. While she shared Arithmancy with both her friends, they had Muggle Studies during her divination period.

"No, Colin," she said once again in a tired voice. "You can't walk me to Divination. It takes me almost twenty minutes to get there and you definitely wouldn't be able to get to Muggle Studies on time. You'd be almost fifteen minutes late."

Seeing that Lark was about to protest, she said, "Remember, I'll fire you if you're late. Then you can't trail me anywhere."

"Just be careful," Lark insisted.

In lighter spirits, Ginny half smiled, "What is the worst that could happen?" Lark giggled at the irony of the statement and dragged Colin down the hallway.

"Come on, Mr. Creevey."

Ginny watched them until they were out of sight, and then walked up one of the large staircases.

As the landings switched and turned she thought about what would happen after dinner. She was more at ease after taking her afternoon nap, and had resigned herself to accepting whatever punishmentwould befall her.Most likely she'd get a Howler from her mother and father, reprimanding her on her behavior. She could imagine what her mother would say. "What have I always told you about fighting, Ginny? It's the influence of those brothers of yours, and your father and I should have stopped at Percy!" Her father would most likely congratulate her and praise her for having backbone. He despised the Malfoy clan just as much as Ron.

All of a sudden, the staircases strayed from their normal rotation, leading to a dark hallway. Out of it came none other than Malfoy armed with his ever-present bodyguards. Ginny's eyes widened on seeing them, and shetried to get her hood up before they could spot her.But the movement caught their attention. As soon as he realized who it was, Draco hastened down the hallway, hoping to catch Ginny on the stairs. She tried to run the other way, but thesteps shifted once moreand she was left at a dead end.

"My, my, what have we here?" His eyes narrowed as he smiled devilishly at her. Ginny clutched her books closer to her as he advanced. They were the only weapon she had against him if he decided to attack her. She had good enough aim that she could chuck one at Draco's head and try and make a run for it.

Luckily, there was no need for that; just as soon as she thought she would die of fright, the staircase changed it's path. Draco stopped suddenly, seeing that he couldn't get to her. Becoming unfrozen, Ginny turned tail and ran, not feeling half as brave as she did when she hadhit him.

His voice chased her all the way down the corridor.

"Don't be late for our date!" His humorless laugh echoed throughout the passageway.

* * *

Ginny walked toward the doors of the Great Hall, eager for dinner. This was her first meal of the day, and not even fright could stop her from inhaling at at least a plate and a half of food. She pulled open the wide, polished, wooden doors of the room and entered.

"That's her!"

"The girl who knocked Malfoy out?"

"Can you believe she showed up? I'd be cowering under my covers."

"Hsssss!"

The last 'comment' was from the females in Slytherin. They were affronted that she dared harm their prince, and had taken to hissing at her whenever she passed. Avoiding the eyes of everyone she saw, Ginny quickly walked to the Gryffindor table and plopped down in the space between Colin and Lark. Ignoring the anxious looks of her friends, she immediately began eating. After awhile she noticed that they weren't touching their food and said with her mouth full of pudding,

"Wha', your food's s'not good? Well I fink iz dewishus."

"Oh, very funny, Ginny," Hermione said. "Swallow."

Following instructions, she said again, "What, none of you are hungry?"

"You're going against the devil after this, Ginny," Ron said abruptly. "How can you eat anything…?" Panicked and worried, he kept fidgeting with the tablecloth and twitching, as if he expected Draco to pop out from the air near him.

"Ron, I'm not scared; not with Dumbledore there. And if I say 'I'm fine' one more time today, I might just have to hit you." She brushed a strand of hair out of her face and took a sip of water.

"Ronnie, old boy, it was nice knowing you," Colin said. The table laughed. Apparently they had all been listening to the conversation. The awkwardness was gone from dinner now and everyone began to eat.

After being wished luck about a thousand times, Ginny headed for the gargoyle statue that led into Dumbledore's office. She remembered walking the path after just coming out of the Chamber of Secrets in her first year. It seemed to her as if the Malfoys had a personal vendetta against her. First Tom's diary and now Lucius's son. As she approached, she realized that Draco was already there. Slowing her gait, she dragged her feet and kept her head down, hoping that Dumbledore would come soon.

"Well, Weasel," he said when she was close enough to hear him. "Funny seeing you here." Any traces of their fight were gone, she noted. His aristocratic face was back to perfection.

A mysterious force heard her prayers, and the gargoyle suddenly turned, revealing a spiral staircase.

"After you, my dear," Draco said mockingly. He opened his arms to the stairway, like a butler. Picking up the hem of her robes, Ginny hurried up the steps and soon entered the office. All three professors were present.

"Both of you sit down, please," Dumbledore said, gesturing to two ornate chairs that were worn from years of people visiting and sitting down.

They both sat.

"It has taken us awhile to decide what to do for your punishments," Dumbledore began. Ginny swallowed the lump that had formed in her now dry mouth. "Unfortunately, if you were thinking there were not going to be any points taken from your houses, you were mistaken. I cannot condone violence in this school, no matter what the situation." He was addressing Ginny, so she nodded shakily.

"However, there will not be any Quidditch suspensions, which you both should be happy with, and so should the heads of your houses. Mr. Malfoy, you are quite the Seeker and Ms. Weasley, I have yet to see you play, but no doubt you are as talented as your predecessors. But I digress.

"Ever since both of your parents attended this school, the legendary Malfoy/Weasley feud has existed. And while it proves for very exciting matches on the Quidditch field, it should remain there, not venture into the halls; and I blame myself for not trying to put a stop to this before now. Therefore, both your parents have been contacted by Professors Snape and McGonagall, and both have consented to the solution we have devised."

Ginny waited with baited breath. Professor McGonagall was expressionless, but Snape looked disgusted. Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad after all, then, as his face was perpetually sour.

"Beginning tomorrow, during the second half of lunch, you, Ms. Weasley, and you, Mr. Malfoy, will attend counseling sessions twice a week."

There was a profound silence. Counseling...?

"My father would _never_ consent to this!" Draco snarled, jumping up, his hair falling in his eyes. Ginny noticed absently that he didn't gel it down anymore.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy-"

"Fraternizing with common, Mudblood-lovers -"

"MR. MALFOY!" Ginny had never heard Dumbledore raise his voice before, and she hoped never to again.

He continued on in a more subdued voice. "_Never_ use that language again. This is exactly why I want this counseling to take place. Close-minded beliefs like those cost lives and create ruin. As a student who many look up to, I hope that you will come to understand why this arrangement is necessary.."

Draco kept his mouth shut but retained the murderous look in his eyes.

"If you have any remainging concerns or questions, you may stay and ask them. You may even send an owl to your parents. But nothing will change this. This is your punishment, though I hope it will become an enlightening experience. If you do not have questions you are free to go to your rooms."

Draco stormed out of the room like a bat out of hell. McGonagall and Snape followed.

"Wait one minute, Ms. Weasley," Dumbledore requested. "You have been very quiet, unlike Mr. Malfoy who is probably raising quite a stir in the owlery right about now." She smiled at his dry humor.

"Well, honestly, Headmaster, I don't know what to think...I mean, I don't want to do this, but I suppose I'll have to. It beats getting kicked off of the team, at least."

"Spoken like a true Gryffindor," he said.

She began to descend the steps when he spoke again. "Don't worry about Mr. Malfoy, Ginevra. I'm sure that you two will get along perfectly well in due time." He smiled and his eyes twinkled. Giving him a small smile back, she continued down the stairs and for her room wondering if he was on something.

In due time must mean that she was going to kick the bucket some time soon.What a pity.

Reaching the Fat Lady, Ginny muttered,"Fortiter," and walked inside. She was met with the solemn faces of the Trio, Colin, and Lark.

Ron hopped up when he saw her. He was in red flannel pajamas and a white tee-shirt. Harry was wearing pretty much the same thing, except he had on a green shirt that brought out his eyes and blue flannels. Hermione, ever modest, wore a sky blue nightgown underneath her dressing robe. Colin and Lark were still in their uniforms.

"What's the verdict?"

"We-ll," she said, drawing out the suspense, and taking her school robes off in the same motion. She plopped down on the couch. "It seems to me that this will be the last time I'll be sitting on this couch at lunch."

"WHAT! They expelled you!" Ron began walking back and forth on the oriental carpeting. "We'll see about this! After I thrash Malfoy, I'm going straight to Dumbledore and giving him a piece of my mind!"

Ginny laughed. "Then, dear brother, you'll have to join Malfoy and me in counseling."

"Come again?" he asked, stopping his ranting.

"I won't be sitting on this couch at lunch, because I will be attending counseling sessions with Malfoy during the second half. I'll get to know the scared little boy inside of the man," she said sarcastically.

"Well, I'll be damned."

"I know," she said. "But I'm lucky; I'm still on the team."

Harry let out a huge sigh, and sat back wordlessly.

Hermione and Ginny laughed, thinking the same thing. "Nice to know what your real concerns are." He grinned and shrugged, adjusting his glasses.

"I'm going to turn in," Ginny said, getting up. "I'm beat."

"GOOD IDEA!" everyone said this at the same time. Ginny froze, startled.

"What's so good about it?"

"Well, Ginny," answered Lark. "It seems that when you don't get enough sleep, the world goes upside down."

Ginny rolled her eyes and resumed walking. Sticking her nose in the air, she just said, "Humph!" and ascended the steps.

Inwardly she agreed. Besides, she was going to need her rest. She had a big day ahead of her.

* * *

Tell me how you liked it! Please review!

- Femme


	3. Chapter Three

Alright, I'm back yet again for the third chapter. Once again, I'd like to thank every single person who read and reviewed my story; you guys are simply amazing, and I wouldn't be writing this without you. Your comments are wonderful, and so are your suggestions. Oh, yeah, if I don't capitalize something that needs to be capitalized or make a grammar mistake and you catch it, feel free to comment on that. Any kinds of reviews are welcome, so are flames. But constructive flames are better.

Disclaimer: Once again, nope, Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, and neither do the characters in this story, except for Lark Piston, Leah Trout, and another character that will appear in this chapter.

Analyze This

Unlike the previous morning, Ginny woke up refreshed and well rested. The only thing that marred her outlook on the day was her "counseling session" in the afternoon. Getting out from under her covers and laying spread eagle on top of them she thought about what would happen. 'Will there be some old, balding witch with huge glasses wanting to know our innermost fears?' she thought. 'Or maybe it'll be a wizard who will try and hypnotize us to see why we hate each other so much.' She suddenly pictured Draco sitting on the floor in some old woman's arms, shaking with sobs saying, "I guess it all s-started when Angus died. I c-can still remember Mummy and D-Daddy saying that h-he went to the big chew t-toy in the sky…" she laughed out loud at the thought. As if Draco Malfoy would talk about missing his dead dog! That is if he ever had one…Shaking her head, Ginny got a malicious glint in her brown eyes. 'This is going to be a great opportunity to get some dirt on Malfoy!' She sighed merrily and bounced out of the bed, red hair falling in her face. Then she stood suddenly still. 'I can get revenge on Lark for what she did yesterday morning!' Tomorrow she'd have an A.M. Quidditch practice and wouldn't be able to return the favor.

Creeping stealthily toward Lark's bed she got into a spy persona. Her pajama top was a forest green tank top and she was wearing black hand-me-down pajama pants. Standing over Lark, Ginny barely suppressed a laugh. Though her friend seemed to be the definition of 'morning person', she didn't look that way right now. Lark's whole body was curled up under the covers, hiding everything except for random strands of black hair on the pillow. Grabbing the pillow from under Lark's head, Ginny then pulled the covers off her body and began singing a Muggle fast-food song she heard on the 'telly-vitchen'

"HI THERE MISTER MORNING, MY FAVORITE TIME OF DAY, RISE AND SHINE IT'S HAPPY TIME, LET'S GET ON OUR WAY!" Ginny skipped back and forth around Lark's bed while singing the jingle, ignoring the death glares she was getting. Lark's luxurious raven hair was tousled and sticking up, and her hazel eyes were barely focused.

"VIRGINIA!" Lark shouted.

Laughing hysterically at her friend's expression, Ginny ran to the dormitory bathroom and locked the door. Tuesdays were now her favorite day of the week.

­

Half an hour – and half a million apologies later, the sixth year trio entered the Great Hall for breakfast.

"I still can't believe you did that, Ginny," Lark said. "Don't you dare laugh, Colin!" she warned. He tried to put on his most serious face although he saw hints of a smile at Lark's mouth. All seemed to be in much better spirits than yesterday; it was almost as if nothing had happened.

"Hssss!"

Well, except for that. There were still a few mesmerized looked in Ginny's direction, but for the most part they had dissipated. However the Slytherins were unrelenting in hissing at Ginny everywhere she went. Giving them as threatening a look as possible, Ginny ignored them.

Sitting down next to Colin, she waved at Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Ron waved absently back at Ginny and resumed arguing with Hermione about something. If it had been three years ago, Ginny would have been alight with curiosity to know what the argument was about. But since her third year, the older trio had taken steps toward getting to know the youngest Weasley. At first she knew it was just because they didn't want her finding another confidant in some evil being, however, as they continued to acknowledge her presence, it actually seemed as if they wanted her company. While she didn't make the Trio a quartet, a fact she was now seldom bitter about, having them want to talk to her was a big thumbs up. Anyway, she had her own friends now.

Harry grinned at Ginny. The small action, which used to throw her into an apoplectic fit, was greeted with only another small wave. Harry sat silently waiting for the argument to pass; he knew better than to interrupt it.

"It's only a little tiff. Something about the thickness of a galleon." Harry smiled while the rest listened to him disbelievingly. "Ronnie here then brilliantly told Hermione that he would know more about it than she would because 'after all, she's only a Muggle'," he said imitating Ron's comment. "Unluckily Hermione reminded him that she's at the top of every class."

"I don't see why they're always arguing," said Seamus, sliding next to Lark holding the plate of toast. He passed it around the table. "I mean, the whole school knows that they'd rather be doing something far more productive with their mouths," he said loudly, grinning. This was greeted with uproarious laughter from the rest of the group. Hermione who had been yelling at Ron stopped mid-sentence and flushed deeply. Ron's face soon rivaled that of his hair and he glared at Seamus while throwing a piece of toast at him, making everyone laugh even more. Thus ended the lovers' quarrel.

After breakfast, Ginny, Colin and Lark headed for Charms with Flitwick. After that, the group had Potions, in which Snape was as mean to Ginny as he could possibly be without receiving a reprimand from the Headmaster. He would appear suddenly at her shoulder, and look on her potion, which almost made her spill it on herself, once. 'Slimy git,' she thought to herself. If she spilled the potion on herself, it would have disastrous results. The recipient of Searing Potion would gradually get hotter and hotter until they felt as if they were in the middle of the Sahara Desert with no water to speak of. In the end the person's brain would overheat, causing them to go brain dead, and then their body to shut down. This process would happen over a period of fifteen minutes; quite a long time to suffer. The students of course would not be trying the potions themselves. If mixed with the Glacier Potion that Snape provided them with (which had the opposite effects and caused the recipient to get fatal frostbite), the combination would be a clear substance that appeared to be water. When swallowed, the drinker would only feel a sudden rush of warmth that would ebb away. Snape tried the mixed potions to make sure that some student who couldn't make the potion didn't try to replace it with water. Fortunately, Ginny's potion had been perfect, which even surprised her, as Potions was not her strong point. She was more of a Charms and Transfiguration student. Colin gave her a smile and thumbs up.

"Your potion must be marvelous, Mr. Creevey, as you have the time to converse with another student in my class." Snape then went over to Colin, who was now frowning, and tried his. "It's far too runny," he said, which was ridiculous. It _was_ supposed to be like water. "Five points from Gryffindor. Next time concentrate on your work." He walked away. Colin made a rude gesture at his back while Lark hid a smile behind her hand, Snape headed for her next.

When Colin, Lark, and Ginny left the dungeon, they encountered a huge crowd of Slytherin females who hissed simultaneously when they saw Ginny. Spying the ringleader, Pansy Parkinson of course, Ginny snapped at them having finally lost patience.

"Don't you people have anything better to do than stalk me and hiss at me? I mean, I'm pissed at Malfoy, but you don't see me walking around and roaring at every Slytherin I see, do you?"

Stepping forward Pansy said, "You shouldn't have hit him, Weasley, if you weren't prepared to fight back and face the consequences."

Ginny gasped and her eyes widened in mock wonder. "Wow, Parkinson! That was a big word! Keep this up and you won't have to be Malfoy's cheerleader and call girl for the rest of your life. Good for you, Pans'!" Colin, Lark, and the rest of the Gryffindors erupted into laughter at the pug faced seventh year.

Pansy blushed and jumped forward while Ginny sprang back, trying to stay calm. She tried to keep a brave front and not let herself be intimidated, but inside she was scared. This newfound bravery was wonderful, but it seemed to get her into more trouble than she was accustomed to. A hand restrained the fuming Pansy.

"Well, Weasley, you just can't keep your mouth shut, can you? I would have thought that even your underbred parents would have taught you to stay in your place and keep quiet."

Ginny remained silent, she didn't want to get into another fight because she'd have to see him later.

Draco walked around Pansy to stand in front of Ginny. "Cat got your tongue, Weasel? You can try and act brave like your dear friend Potty, but I know that inside you're just a poor, scared, wench with hand-me-down clothes trying to play with the big-kids on the playground. When will you get it into your head, girl? They don't want you around." He stepped closer to her. "And one day, when you're all alone like you were on the stairs that time, you'll see what happens to the runt who tries to be what they're not. They're _crushed_."

Colin pulled Ginny back from Malfoy's steely glare.

"C'mon Gin, we don't have time for this, we've got Defense Against the Dark Arts." She didn't move. He tugged on her robes a little harder. "Come on now, Ginny. That's enough."

Eyeing the Slytherins one last time, Ginny walked away in between her friends in a huff.

He'd gotten her frightened and said the last word, again.

After a quick lunch, Ginny snuck away from her friends. She didn't feel like being bombarded with questions about 'that time on the stairs'. She hadn't told them since she didn't want to worry them any further. She also didn't feel like being asked if she was 'going to be okay' a thousand times. Ron had tried to teach her some new hexes, and now she wondered if she should have learned them. Walking out of the Great Hall, Ginny realized that she had no idea where to go and decided that waiting by the statue of the gargoyle that opened up Dumbledore's office was the best solution. Standing there for a few minutes, she scanned the halls looking for someone who would tell her where to go. Suddenly she felt a sharp tap on her shoulder. Springing around to face her attacker, she laughed when she saw what it was – an owl. On closer inspection, she noticed that the owl was an unusual one. Its body had beautiful caramel colored feathers (which was strange enough, most owls were usually white, gray, or black), and the head had black feathers. The eyes were brown, and around its neck, but no where else on its body, there were golden feathers. The owl hooted in apology to startling her and then screeched to get Ginny to notice the parchment it held in it's talons. Opening it up, Ginny read:

Ms. Virginia Weasley,

As I did not want your brother following you, I did not give you instructions concerning the location of your counseling yesterday. I know that he must have been most curious and desired to attend, but I don't think that his presence would be very…productive. – Ginny smiled at this. It seemed like this person had her brother accurately assessed. She continued reading.

If you follow Lourna – she assumed that this was the owl – she will lead you to the room where you need to be. Don't worry about Mr. Malfoy, - she snorted- he has also received directions.

Good luck,

Professor Dumbledore

Suddenly the owl took flight. 'It sure is smart,' Ginny thought. 'It knew that I finished reading the note.' She ran after the animal. It took her down a passage she had never seen before, occasionally hooting whenever she was confused. Finally, after going down a staircase, Ginny saw a door a few paces ahead. The owl hooted impatiently. "Calm down!" she said. Walking up and turning the knob, Ginny entered a large room with many large windows letting in the sunlight. Green, gauzy curtains flapped around the front of the windows, they were open. Walking over to them and looking out, she saw that the room faced the lake. There were black leather couches pushed up against the perimeter of the cream colored walls, and one large recliner. Save for the small table with a lamp in the center of it, a chair pulling up to the table, and a clock on the wall, the room was empty of any other furniture. Plopping down loudly on one of the couches, Ginny closed her eyes and savored the feel of the soft leather. There was nothing close to this quality in her house. Unexpectedly a door opened in a far corner of the room and her eyes snapped open; she hadn't noticed the door when she entered the room. Out of it walked the last person she wanted to see.

"Well, Weasel, it took you long enough to get here."

She closed her eyes so that she wouldn't have to look at Malfoy's face. It wasn't an unpleasant one. Not by a long shot. It was just that his eyes were so cold, and frightening. She had to be brave.

"I guess it's just that I was trying to avoid being around you for as long as possible."

He smirked. He was about to open his mouth and make another comment when the owl hooted loudly. Why was it still there? Completely out of blue, it's feathers began to ruffle violently, and it's skin started shifting oddly. Ginny shrieked and even Malfoy looked alarmed, what the hell was going on? The owl began to grow to the size of a small dog, then Hermione's pet cat Crookshanks. The lower feathers formed into cloth, the caramel feathers became skin and more cloth, and the head feathers became wavy hair. When the transformation was complete, there stood before them a very pretty, tall woman with wavy black hair in a knot at the bottom of her head. She was wearing black and caramel colored robes; the owl was no where to be seen.

"Huh?" Ginny said.

The woman laughed, at her neck a gold linked necklace shook. In the back of Ginny's mind it registered that those must be the golden feathers.

"I'm sorry to have startled you," the woman said in a rich, lightly accented voice. Reaching a hand out to Ginny she said, "I'm Lourna Martin. You must be Ginny. I'll be your counselor."

Ginny shook her hand in a daze. All she could think to say was, "Oh."

She had never seen an Animagus transform except for Professor McGonagall, but then it had been very quick. Watching Professor Martin made her queasy.

Greeting Draco - who shook her hand a little too long - she made sure that it was him and then gestured for them to sit. The two students briefly looked at each other with distaste before walking to opposite ends of the room and sitting on the sofas.

Once again the woman laughed. Sitting down on the recliner she began, "I see that the Headmaster did not inform you that your counselor would be an Animagus, or even who it would be." Draco and Ginny shook their heads. "But at least that's now out of the way. Oh, right, you can call me Professor Martin.

When I was watching you two, as an owl, I saw that you really do have some…problems." Ginny wondered about the reason for her hesitation; that they had problems was evident. "Today's session will just be an introduction to what you guys will be doing. For starters, I know that neither of you wants to be here, and that's why your counseling will last only as long as it is needed. Meaning that once you two start getting along, or at least respecting each other, you won't need to come here anymore."

"It'll never happen!" Draco and Ginny said together. They glanced at each other; he sneered and she looked away.

"It seems like you two are already have an 'agree to disagree' kind of relationship going on," the professor said.

"I have no relationship with that freckled monster over there," Draco said nastily.

"First and foremost, the name calling will end when I am present!" she said. Her eyes were very serious, as if she dared him to speak again. Draco reddened. Ginny doubted that he was used to being ordered around and vowed to treasure the moment. She continued, "Professor McGonagall was reluctant to agree to this next part of the counseling, but I feel that you two aren't going to always be watched, so you need to spend time alone. After this session and the one tomorrow, you two will be alone. Not even I will be here." She noticed Ginny's skeptical look and smiled. "I mean it. I won't be spying on you two from some minute hole in the wall. I _am_ however going to check back in with you two after about five sessions of being alone, and I surmise that the interaction you two have together will speak for itself and indicate how much progress you've made. As for today and tomorrow, I will be 'interviewing' each of you to see how you feel about one another. Today Draco will go, and tomorrow, Ginny, you will go. Any questions?" Professor Martin sat back in her seat.

"Well, what will I be doing while you're talking to Malfoy?" Ginny asked.

"You'll be listening to what he says, however, you cannot comment on it."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Great," she said sarcastically.

Professor Martin called Draco to sit at the table and talk with her, but Ginny had plenty of time to listen to him insult her. She went to see what the door that Draco walked out of led to. Turning the door knob, she laughed silently. It was just a bathroom. 'What was I expecting, a portal leading to Voldemort's secret hideout?' Ginny was much like Harry in that she had no problem calling 'You-know-who' by his proper name. Since meeting his younger self, Ginny felt that she almost had a right to. Flipping her hair out of her face she sat back on the sofa and listened to the professor talk to Draco.

"Why don't I like her?" he asked.

"That is what I said, is it not?" Professor Martin said

"Yes, it is. Anyway, it's not just her; it's her whole Mudblood loving family."

"The name calling, Mr. Malfoy…"

"I mean _Muggle_," he drawled. Ginny knew that once they were alone he would revert back to his disgusting way of talking about non-magic folk.

"And why is that, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Well, why not?" he said, sounding honestly surprised. "Just look at the girl. She allows herself to walk out of her room looking like a house elf and then expects me to respect her? I don't have respect to spare for lost causes that go chasing after idiots who don't want them anyway. Everyone knows that Potter doesn't care a whit for Freckles over there, that is everyone _except_ for Freckles."

"I'll have you know, Malfoy, that I haven't been chasing after Harry for years! Years! And if I was it wouldn't be any of your business anyway!" said Ginny, rising.

"You make it my business, Weasley, when I have to watch you throw yourself at him in the hallways. It's just plain sick making. You want my respect? Try getting some for yourself. I can understand that it'll be hard though."

"If you're too blind and dumb to see that we're just friends, that's not my problem. You've got your own, after all."

Malfoy yelled and stood up. "And what the hell would you know about my problems!?!"

"I'll start with the fact that you're the male whore of Hogwarts! What's wrong, Drakie?" she said feigning sad. "Did Daddy not love you enough when you were young and so you have to sleep with every girl that will have you to get some affection?"

Draco, now livid with rage knocked over the table and whipped out his wand.

"Finis Gravisum!"

Professor Martin also took hers out just in time to cast a shield over Ginny to protect her from Draco's curse.

Ginny trembled uncontrollably within the shield while tears ran from her wide eyes. She stumbled across that curse once when she was shelving books in the library. Since she was a favorite of Madame Pince, she had been allowed to work in the Restricted Section. That curse would have closed her windpipes, causing asphyxiation. He could have killed her.

"THAT IS ENOUGH FROM THE BOTH OF YOU!"

Draco's chest was rising up and down, his hair was wild and his arm was still in the air. Lowering, he hissed, "This is a joke! I would gladly have taken detention for the completion of the year instead of this crap. I will not tolerate some low class, sorry excuse for a witch to disrespect me." He began walking toward the door.

"Mr. Malfoy, the session has not ended! You may not leave!" Professor Martin shouted at him.

"I don't care!" he yelled. "Take it up with the head of my house." He walked out of the door, slamming it. The clock fell off the wall.

Professor Martin ran over to Ginny and took off the shield.

"Are you alright, Ms. Weasley?"

Ginny struggled to compose herself. "I-I'm fine."

They were both silent for a full ten minutes.

"That is why I did not want you to say anything. This, to be honest, has been a disaster."

"I-I'm sorry."

"We will still have the session tomorrow, but for now, I'll walk you back to your Common Room. That was quite a scare."

"I know, I...I'm sorry Professor Martin." Ginny couldn't believe that Draco Malfoy had almost cursed her.

"It's alright. Let's go."

Ginny went straight to her bed and lay down. The professor had been carrying a bit of chocolate and gave it to her.

"It should help your nerves. See you tomorrow, same time, and same place?" she asked.

"Sure," Ginny said.

But as she lay there she thought that that was the last place she wanted to be. She reckoned that she had gone too far.

She had just made the feud between them personal.

REVIEWS!!!!!! Please, everyone who has just finished this story MUST send me a review! Alright, alright, you don't have to, but I'd love it if you did. This was a tough chapter to do, but I liked writing it and I want to know what you think!

Until the next installment,

I'm FemmeDraconis, signing off!


	4. Chapter Four

Author's Notes: This chapter has been edited. If you're reading this for the second time, you may notice some changes. If this is your first time, then I guess you won't. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters that I use.

_Analyze This_

* * *

Ginny very reluctantly got up from her bed about twenty minutes later. 

The small nap she had taken eased her nerves, until she realized that she had to face Draco Malfoy in the hallway, and inevitably the following afternoon. If Ginny had her way, she would lock herself in her room until she graduated – of course making sure that she had a hefty supply of butterbeer and strawberry-flavored sugar quills.

Ginny sighed and immediately squished that thought. The thought of staying in her nice, warm Hogwarts room seemed very wonderful at the moment, but she was not the kind of person to lock herself away from trouble; even if she did have a penchant for encountering it rather often.

Popping the last bit of chocolate that Professor Martin had given to her in her mouth, Ginny rose from the bed and thought about the rest of the day, aside from what had already happened. She did not want to miss Transfiguration and have Ron and her friends thinking that Malfoy had killed her or some such nonsense.

'Although he almost did,' she thought with a grimace.

What made it worse, she realized as she picked up her bag and walked down the stairs, was that she had provoked him. While she could justifiably argue that Draco had pushed her into it, "Two wrongs don't make a right," she could hear Hermione saying in her head. If she told her – and she wasn't planning on doing _that_. Ever.

Ginny waited for Lark and Colin at Professor McGonagall's door as agreed during the first half of lunch. If she could help it, she wouldn't tell her friends _exactly_ what had transpired. Just the main points, so that they would be on the lookout for the blond assassin. It would be terrible if Malfoy decided to take his anger out on them. She straightened up when she spied them coming.

"How was lunch?" she asked quickly, hoping to prolong their interrogation.

Lark failed to notice the diversion and proceeded to talk about Seamus; then how some third-year boy tripped her and made her fall in front of Seamus; that the Slytherins gave up hissing in favor of death glares; and more about Seamus. Lark had been strung over the Irish seventh-year for two years. It seemed as if – at least to Ginny it did – that he was finally being taken in by her charms.

Through all of this, though, Colin failed to be taken in by the ruse and raised his eyebrow at Ginny. With her own eyes, Ginny communicated back to her observant friend that she would fill him in later; he'd only harass her endlessly if she didn't. Due to his keen talent with photography, Colin seemed to pick up on things that other people did not, or might not get right away.

So after Lark's narration ended Ginny scolded herself internally for not listening when Lark caught her off guard with her next question.

"How was Hell with El Diablo himself?"

Avoiding Lark's eyes she said, "It was, er…productive."

Lark nodded on for Ginny to elaborate, but Ginny only smiled brightly and said, "Let's head in, shall we?" Lark shrugged and followed Ginny.

Ginny had often joked that having Seamus on the brain affected Lark's normally sharp perception.

For once she was glad it did.

* * *

"I've got a few letters to owl, so I'll catch you up at dinner, okay?" 

Ginny and Colin nodded and waved Lark off. Lark smiled and headed up the hall to the stairs that led to the Owlery. As she and Colin went onward to their common room, Ginny thought about how nice it was that Lark wrote to her parents so often.

Being half-Muggle (Lark's father was a Muggle primary schoolteacher who was always up for learning more about the wizarding world), Ginny knew that Lark sometimes wrote to friends that she had outside of Hogwarts, even though it was very difficult. Ginny tried to imagine what she would compose in a letter to a friend who wasn't magical…what she came up with was awkward sounding.

She also knew that Lark's father wasn't as demanding about writing home as Ginny's mother was, but that he appreciated it very much, especially since it was hard for him to understand the way magical people lived. Hermione's parents seemed to have adjusted through the years, and seeing oddly dressed men and women floating objects around in a place named 'Diagon Alley' had almost become second nature to them.

"What's on your mind?" Colin asked Ginny when they were in front of the Fat Lady.

Ginny shrugged casually. "Not much; just thinking about my parents."

"_Round Table_," said Colin, giving the portrait the password. She swung open and Colin walked inside to sit on a squishy red couch and signaled for Ginny to do the same.

"And what do these parents of yours think about you exposing your innermost secrets to your enemy?"

Ginny smiled at Colin wryly. "Cut the act, Creevey; I know you just want to find out about the session today. You could care less about my parents."

"I'm hurt by that accusation."

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I'm still waiting."

Sighing, Ginny glanced at Colin. He seemed to be in a good mood. So she told him the story, not even bothering to delete the parts where she feared for her mortal life and cried like a newborn.

"Are you taking the piss?" Colin asked with a concerned look on his face.

Ginny frowned. "Do you honestly think I would joke about something like that?"

"Sorry," Colin amended. He paused. "I don't think you should do this anymore…"

Ginny groaned and threw herself back on the couch. "I don't need this from you as well! I'm getting it enough from Ron."

"Are you planning on telling him?"

"If you ask me one more moronic question, Colin, I might just begin to reconsider you as one of the top five on my Most Intelligent People I Know list." Ginny thought a moment. "Not that I really know more than ten people anyway…"

Colin gave Ginny a reproving look. "Ginny, I'm serious! I don't like this at all."

"No more than I do."

"Then why don't you care?"

"I do!" Ginny protested. "I just can't let it get the better of me! I did that today, and look where it got me – at the receiving end of Draco Malfoy's wand."

Colin was silent.

"Promise me that you won't say anything to Ron," Ginny said firmly.

Colin gave Ginny a long look. "As much as I wouldn't mind seeing Draco Malfoy's spleen used as Hogwarts wallpaper right now, it would seriously affect the photogenic-ness of the castle." Ginny grinned.

"Have I told you how much I love you, Colin Creevey?" she asked him, grinning.

"Not nearly enough," he replied pushing his hand through his hair. Ginny gave him a big hug. "Enough, enough!" he declared, laughing.

"So how was Quidditch Practice this morning?" he asked, settling down.

Ginny sighed and threw herself on the floor in show of her bliss. Luckily the seat of the couch wasn't that high off of the floor.

"You fell off of your broom?" he asked.

"_No_," Ginny snapped. "It was lovely."

Colin smiled as Ginny proceeded to tell him of the beautiful November breeze that presided over their practice "like a benevolent, peaceful spirit".

"So you think that you're ready for your first match?" he summed up.

Ginny grinned. "We're going to demolish them."

* * *

"Pass the chicken!" Ron said imperiously. Seamus passed the chicken with so many flourishes that Ginny though it would fly out of his hands and onto Hermione's lap. 

Ginny only picked at her dinner while everyone else managed large, hearty servings. Mostly, she was thirsty, and was currently nursing her fourth cup of pumpkin juice. The chunk of chocolate that had been bestowed upon her by Professor Martin was still residing somewhere in her stomach along with the nerves that had sprouted up upon seeing Ron enter the Great Hall for dinner. Talking things over with Colin had been wonderfully calming, but now was the real test.

But fifteen minutes had already gone by, and no one had said anything about it. Ginny thought that she might be able to relax a bit.

"So how was the session today?" Hermione asked suddenly, surprising Ginny so much that she choked. The older girl didn't seem to notice though, as she was glaring at Ron who had just elbowed her.

"Sorry, Hermione," he apologized, turning to look at Ginny. "So what about it?" he asked as well.

"It was…"

'Fine...dandy...deadly…?' Ginny thought.

"I _finally_ finished!" a breathless Lark declared, situating herself between Ginny and Lavender Brown who was chattering to someone else.

Ginny silently heaved a sigh of relief at the distraction.

"What took you so long?" she asked the dark-haired girl who was looking around the table.

"Well, when I got up there, the owls were flying all over the place; I couldn't get one to stay still long enough to attach a letter. So I thought of giving them some of the owl treats that Filch keeps in that little bucket so they'd calm down. But it was scattered all over the floor."

Colin gave Lark an amused look. "What did you do, pick it up grain by grain?"

Lark raised her chin. "As a matter of fact, I did." Ginny snorted. "They wouldn't come to me any other way! By the time I finally got one to accept my post, I was filthy, so I went to wash up."

"If only we could all have that kind of excitement," Colin said wistfully.

Lark pointedly ignored him. "Sometimes I really wish that we could use electricity in Hogwarts," she said. "It would be so much easier to just phone Dad now and then."

Ron looked at Lark as if she had just spoken a different language. "_Phoning_ is ten times harder! Muggles are always adding extra knobs and buttons to things as if they were trying to decorate stuff instead of using it."

Colin snorted.

Hermione looked thoughtful. "It's true that some of our technology is a puzzle even to the average person; and over most of the time I don't even realize that I'm not using a pen or flipping a light switch. But while the idea of using a quill and parchment is almost romantic, it's no fun when your quill runs dry or spurts ink all over the place."

"Or when the inkpot falls and stains your bag," added Colin.

"It _was _kind of nice not having a temperamental owl pecking me on the face," Harry admitted. "Not that I got much post, anyway."

Ron shook his head. "You lot sound like my father; obsessing over _park slugs_ and the like."

"You mean _spark plugs_?" Hermione asked.

"Are you talkin' about magic versus Muggle?" Seamus inquired, abruptly jumping in the conversation.

Lark nodded, blushing a little.

"Ah, I know the feeling; me dad's a Muggle," he told her.

"I know," she said.

Ginny couldn't help but grin at her friend who was now engaged in conversation with Seamus.

"But we've gone completely off topic," Ron announced to the few people who were not immersed in conversations on the convenience of toaster ovens. "Ginny hasn't said anything about her heart to heart with Malfoy."

Ginny growled silently before speaking. "It was…"

"It was…?" Hermione asked.

"Fine!" she said mock-brightly. "Really…swell…" 'Swell?' she asked herself despairingly. "I mean, it was pretty much just an introduction…to…to…what we would be doing…later…" she finished lamely.

"Do you have a supervisor?" Harry asked a bit concernedly.

"Yes! Her name is Professor Martin."

"_Oh_…" Harry said peeking at Ron. He began fixing his glasses.

"_Oh_…" said Ron trying to look anywhere but at Harry. He looked as if he would explode if he did.

"What do you mean '_oh_'?" Hermione snapped.

"Nothing…" Ron said. "It's nothing."

"She has dark-hair, right?" asked Seamus. "And an accent?"

Ginny nodded slowly. "So?"

Seamus popped his head in once more, grinning madly at his fellow seventh-year men. "We've seen her around somewhere; half of our year thinks she's a bit of a dish!"

Ginny let out a shout of uncontrollable laughter, as did Lark and Colin.

Harry was grinning shyly and Ron's ears were becoming redder by the minute.

Hermione sniffed with indignation. "I would hope that her counsel was more impressive than her appearance!"

Ron looked as if he was about to comment on that, but at the glare Hermione sent him, he thought better of it.

Chuckling gently, Ginny looked around the Great Hall where her eyes came to rest on the Slytherin table. Feeling a little paranoid she searched for a head of blond hair, but didn't find it.

'Relief,' she thought. 'For now.'

* * *

Despite the events of the previous day, Ginny enjoyed a restful night of sleep and woke up feeling only a little groggier than usual. 

After going through the motions of the day (classes; arguing with Colin; and avoiding the Slytherin death glares that Lark had informed her of), Ginny found herself watching the minutes and seconds tick away on the clock in the Great Hall at lunch. She would wait until it was absolutely necessary for her to get there on time, and not a minute later. After feeling momentarily guilty that she might have been keeping Professor Martin waiting, Ginny consoled herself with the thought that the professor had not informed her of a _precise_ time that she should be in the little room. Ginny assumed that Professor Martin expected them to watch the time during lunch and when the half mark was approaching to get ready.

And she was getting ready. Really.

Looking at the doors, Ginny braced herself and began to stand, but a dark robe darkened her vision and then passed by just as quickly; she scowled when she saw who it was.

Draco left through the heavy double doors without sparing Ginny a moment's notice. Apparently he was already on his way.

Feeling Colin's eyes on her, Ginny turned to him questioningly.

"Shouldn't you be…you know, going?" he asked.

Ginny sighed heavily. "I suppose so."

When Ginny stood up, Ron shouted, "Give him hell!" and then returned to his conversation with Harry and Hermione.

"We'll see you later," Lark assured.

Ginny gave them a smile and left.

Trying to see if she could remember the way to the room, Ginny listened for Draco's footsteps, but heard none.

'He's in a hurry to get this over with,' she thought grudgingly. 'Well, he's not the only one.'

But when Ginny entered the room, she noticed that was not the case.

Professor Martin was sitting serenely in her chair, seemingly deep in thought when Ginny entered the room. Draco was nowhere in sight.

"Sorry if I'm a little late today," she said walking in. She glanced at the chair that Draco had been sitting in before, and looking a bit longingly at the one by the window.

"You may sit anywhere you want to, you know," said Professor Martin hospitably.

Ginny nodded and walked over to the window.

"Is Mr. Malfoy running late as well?" the older woman asked.

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't know. Don't be surprised if he doesn't come." The professor appeared baffled so Ginny elaborated.

"I saw him leave the Great Hall, but he's obviously not here; he must have gone somewhere else."

"He couldn't have gotten lost?"

Ginny snorted. "Lost Little Malfoy."

"I suppose not, then…"

There was an awkward silence.

"Why did _you_ come?" Professor Martin asked.

Ginny looked out the window and thought for a moment, fidgeting with her hands. As her gaze was averted, Ginny did not see Professor Martin stiffen slightly when she heard a noise at the door.

"If it makes you more comfortable," she said smiling, "you may lie down."

Ginny smiled a bit, closed her eyes and acquiesced.

"So why did you come?" the professor repeated.

"I don't know…" Ginny said. "To apologize, I suppose."

"To whom: Me? Mr. Malfoy?"

"_Not_ to Malfoy," Ginny said fervently.

Coming forward, Professor Martin asked Ginny the same question that she had asked Draco the following day.

"What do you think of Mr. Malfoy?"

* * *

Leaving the Great Hall, Draco started to walk for the room where the sessions were to be held. He walked purposefully at first, the anger building up inside of him the more he thought about Ginny. 

The previous day, following the disastrous session, he had gone straight to the Owlery to send a letter to his father – to give his own version of events before Ginny told her head of house. But in his haze of fury, he came to realize that that was something he would expect of a Weasley, not a Malfoy: to run and tell Daddy that he was upset. Feeling infinitely frustrated, he had thrown the feed bowl for the owls onto the ground and then given it one last kick.

Drawing his mind away from the day before, Draco realized that he was letting his anger get the better of him, and took a small detour to a large window that overlooked the grounds. If he even decided to go to the session that day, the room was not too far away.

He was in a scenic area of the castle and tried to find import in the boring, grassy expanse so that he would calm down. He wished that he could be out flying, not being tortured with a girl he hated – a girl he hadn't known he had hated so much, until a few days ago.

Taking a few steadying breaths, he went on to the room, only to find that Ginny was already there, lying back on the couch, her eyes closed. Unbidden, images from the previous day came to him.

...He had come early, wanting to get it over with. When he exited the Great Hall he'd gone to Dumbledore's office, but the gargoyle did not spring alive for him.

"Foggy old –"

Draco stopped cursing the headmaster when he saw a large owl greeting him. Pulling the note from its claw, he read it quickly and followed it until it led him to a small room. After he entered it, the owl gave a little _hoot!_ and flew back out the door.

Draco shrugged and continued his exploration. He sat on the sofa nearest to the window, looked outside, and then feeling ansty, he stood up again. Noticing that there was a little door in a corner of the room, he walked over to it and went inside. It was only a lavatory; the customary crème tiles with gold plating on the washstand and handtowel rung. He sniffed with disappointment – it seemed larger from the outside.

The main door shut loudly and Draco almost started. Peeking out of the loo, he looked and saw _her_ spread out on the couch.

Her forehead was slightly creased he noticed; she must have been frowning – it was difficult to tell when she upside down. But she wiggled to settle herself into the sofa more and then smiled.

Draco let his eyes travel down to her closed eyes; he wasn't sure what color they would be and he found himself wanting her to open them. Her eyelashes moved and he saw that she had a few freckles under them, although not as many as her brother. When her lips tilted upward in a pleased smile, he licked his own unconsciously, wondering…

Draco had snapped himself back to the present.

'What exactly _was_ I wondering?' He'd asked himself grumpily.

Deciding that she had had enough fun, he pushed the door open and walked out.

"It took you long enough to get here," he'd said.

She'd told him that she wanted to avoid him for as long as possible, and he was going to tell her what he thought of her exactly, until he noticed that the strange owl was sitting on the table and doing something odd.

It had all gone downhill from there...

Draco peered inside the small window on the door and removed his hand from the doorknob.

He had planned on going inside and giving Weasley hell from the get-go. But when he saw her reclining on the couch in a pose almost identical from the previous day, and heard what she was saying, he froze in his tracks.

"What do you think of Mr. Malfoy?" he heard Professor Martin say.

Ginny snorted.

"I think that he's an arrogant bastard – er…sorry," Ginny said.

Professor Martin waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Just don't make a habit of it."

The redhead nodded. "Right. Anyway, I think he's repulsive and hateful in every possible way."

'You're no ray of sunshine yourself, Weasley,' Draco thought angrily.

"Only a Malfoy would go around trying to make people as miserable as possible because _he's_ miserable himself. Before I even met him, he antagonized me, you know." Ginny sighed. "And I suppose that I should make allowances for him because of the family that he comes from, but I can't. If he even showed a sign of humanity other than pleasure, I might consider it. Because the only pleasure he gets is from people's pain. It's disgusting."

Draco stood stock-still.

How dare she? How _dare_ she presume to know anything about him?

_She_ was the one that started the whole thing, by hitting him. Just thinking about that day made Draco want to hex her in the worst way possible. In the hall that day, after she had hit him, for the quickest of seconds, Draco had envisioned Ginny's long, red hair as long and blond. Her eyes turned blue flecked with bits of ice, and her scorning voice had been one he knew very well.

Some part of Draco knew that it was irrational to compare Ginny Weasley to Lucius Malfoy, but for just a moment, they were almost the same person…at least, she was just as worthless. And the fact that she came from a family that was at the bottom of the bloody barrel, and that she had _dared_ to touch him, infuriated him beyond what he thought possible.

Any alien feelings that had surfaced in those few moments when he had seen her alone evaporated. Any imagery of her hair spilling all around like rivulets of ruby and bad poetry were Banished far, far away.

As he let go of the doorknob and walked away he thought of the only thing that was certain to him.

He would not make the sessions easy for her.

* * *

Towards the end there was a lot of P.O.V. switching. I hope it wasn't confusing - please tell me if it was. 

- Femme


	5. Chapter Five

Author's Notes: This chapter has been revised. **1-** Previously, Ron was a Beater, as this chapter was pre-OotP, but I'm putting him in his rightful position – Keeper. If this is your second time reading this story, don't worry, it doesn't change much. **2-** For some reason I initially said this happened in February, it's only November! Sorry if that caused any confusion. Onward!

Disclaimer: Nope, Harry Potter _still _isn't mine, and to my disappointment will never be. It remains property of J.K. Rowling.

_Analyze This_

* * *

The following Monday morning found Ginny seated in the Great Hall in all her Quidditch splendor.

Picking up her fork, she examined the silver piece, looked down at the toast, eggs, and pancakes on her plate, and then looked back up at the utensil.

Ron had generously heaped food onto her plate (in amounts that would have satisfied a hippogriff) despite her numerous protests. Today was the big match against Slytherin, and the last thing that Ginny felt she should be expected to do was eat. Her nerves were bouncing off the scale, and it was taking all of her strength to simply look at the buttered pancakes and not run for the loo.

She was resigned to shoving her food around her plate and waiting for the clock to signal her and the rest of the Gryffindor team to the Quidditch pitch.

"Fork in egg, egg in mouth, and chew. If you fall off your broom, we'll be one short," Ron said, sounding a bit surly, himself.

Ginny gave him a sour look and ignored his request. Whereas many people lost their appetite in times of fright or nervousness, Ron continued to eat like a hog, making it hard to distinguish any traces of nerves. Secretly, though, Ginny was thankful for Ron's ability to remain calm before Quidditch matches. His love of Quidditch (and winning) gave him a seriousness that kept him focused and grounded the rest of the team.

Looking over at Lark who sat on her right, Ginny received a look that asked her to follow Ron's orders.

"At least eat some fruit," Harry said. His voice sounded unusually high.

Ginny cast her eyes over Harry's plate and raised her eyebrow questioningly. Harry caught her gaze and would have blushed had he not been so green. Somehow he had managed to create stars, and assorted faces using various breakfast contents that he'd mashed, chopped, and ground together. Ginny thought that she even saw a snitch hiding out next to a bacon rasher smile.

"Sure, Harry; I'll just follow your great example. I might even be able to create a replica of Egypt's Gringotts division."

He gave her a weak smile and resumed playing with his own food.

Ginny, however, was not offended by his lack of comment. This was to be his last match against a team that he had fought against for seven years, and Ginny could only imagine what he was feeling inside. Thinking about the traditional pre-game pep talk that always ensued before a match, Ginny knew that Harry was too kind to tell them flat out that losing was not an option, and failure to comply would mean death; but it was not necessary. A captain's last Quidditch match was always the most important to him, therefore the message would already be known.

"The way I see it, Harry, you have nothing to be afraid of," Hermione remarked. Harry gave his bushy-haired friend a look that clearly said, "While I appreciate your confidence, it's difficult to listen to a person whose main fears are exams and broomsticks." Or at least, Harry's look was something like that.

"Really!" She continued. "I've watched you practice with the team, and from playing against Malfoy all of these years, you've been able to predict some of his moves and formulate plays against them. I'm almost positive that we'll win."

Ron snorted, "_Almost _positive. Oh, the faith she has in us."

"_But_," she said emphatically, both to drown Ron out and convince Harry; "You'll never be able to even Summon your broom if you don't eat anything." Harry took all of Hermione's words in, and lifted his fork to his mouth. Taking a small bite he washed it down with a gulp of orange juice.

Inspired by this transformation, Ginny began to eat some fruit herself. Looking around idly, she saw her brother fidget inside the pocket of his crimson robes for the umpteenth time that morning.

Evidently Hermione also noticed, for she asked him agitatedly, "Ron, what on earth is the matter with your robes?"

His head snapped up. "I don't know what you mean."

Hermione sighed exasperatedly, pushing her hair out of her face at the same time. "Why are you fidgeting with your hem? What are you hiding?"

"Nothing!"

Quickly, Hermione turned herself sideways so that she was facing Ron. His pocket was slightly open from his foraging, and she tried to peer inside.

Ron pushed the pocket closed, which only made her come even closer.

"Ron!"

"You'll find out soon enough!" His ears were a bit red from trying to hide what was in his pocket. "Anyway, it's time to go."

Harry had already risen from his seat and was calling for the members of the team to follow him.

"Are you ready, Ginny?" Ron asked.

Ginny nodded stiffly and pulled her wispy hair into a tight ponytail. "As ready as I'll ever be," she replied. They rose from the table and followed the rest of their teammates.

"Look for Colin, Hermione, and me in the stands!" Lark ordered their retreating backs. Ginny nodded and jogged to catch up with the team, becoming part of the migrating, scarlet robes that were following their captain into battle.

"This is the moment we've been waiting for, and I don't have to tell you how much it means to me…" Harry began quietly.

The Gryffindor team was huddled together to hear the pep talk that Harry had to say. There was no arguing the fact that Harry was Captain, despite his numerous protests that it was in name only. He and Ron maintained a shared, relaxed sort of captaincy, founded on their _un_relaxed Quidditch fascinations. Although it had been awkward at first, Ginny felt that they had the best-led team out of all the four Hogwarts' teams.

"But I also know that I won't have to tell you lot how to do your jobs. We've practiced tirelessly –"

"And endlessly!" Ron piped up. There were scattered chuckles in the tense silence. Harry looked gratefully at the redhead Keeper and continued.

"Yes – and endlessly. So I do know that if we work as hard as in the practices, Slytherin won't stand a chance. Money can't buy talent, and half of that team paid their way into a spot," – there were a few "I knew it!"S.

"All I ask is that you do your best. We won last year," there were shouts of happy assent, and Harry grinned, his normal coloring coming back to his face, "and there's no reason why we can't do that again."

"Or in other words," Ron said, rising to stand next to Harry, broom in hand. "Up Gryffindor!" The team laughed.

"Hear, hear!" Sebastian Chintz, a Chaser in Ginny's year, shouted.

"Let's go!" Harry said.

He walked out in front with his treasured Firebolt in hand, Ron on his right with one hand in his pocket, and Ginny in back. As soon as they stepped out into the November sunshine in the Quidditch pitch, the stands erupted.

Gryffindor jumped up and cheered wildly; Ginny looked around and spotted Hermione, Lark, and Colin on their feet cheering and screaming. She saw Parvati Patil and Neville Longbottom waving their scarlet and gold scarves in the air as if they were flags, declaring to the world that they were proud Gryffindors. Even the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were clapping for the Gryffs, and Ginny was grateful for it, even if it was only because they didn't want Slytherin to win.

Booing from the Slytherin stands caught Ginny's attention. The negative comments toward her team soon became shouts of praise and raucous bellowing when emerald and silver robes appeared in the shadows across the field. As the Gryffindor team continued its journey toward the center of the pitch, Ginny could see the Slytherin captain's hair flying in the breeze.

As he advanced, Ron and Harry stiffened, immediately going on guard. Their faces hardened as they glared at the blond aristocrat. Within a moment the enemy teams were facing each other.

"So this is it, Potter," Draco spoke up seriously, looking deceptively sincere. Not rising to the bait, Harry nodded curtly. Draco gave Harry a smile.

"Don't frown like that – you'll get to polish the Cup, at least." Harry clenched his jaw and tightened his hold on the Firebolt.

Seeing that Harry was affected, Draco then turned to Ron for amusement. "You too, Weasel, and I might even deign to pay you for it. That way you can buy some talent, and with the money left over buy your Mudblood some looks. It's a win-win situation for all."

The Slytherin team snickered and narrowed their eyes at the team across from them. Ron stepped forward and Ginny made a move as if to hold him back, but he held up his hand, signaling for her to stay where she was. Ron continued to walk toward Draco until they were only a few inches apart. Putting his hand in his pocket, Ron fumbled around for something and then brought it out. It was a small figurine.

'A griffin!?' Ginny thought.

"Going to beat me to death with a toy, are you?" Draco mocked. The stands were abuzz with confusion, trying to see why the match hadn't started yet and what the Gryffindor Keeper was holding.

They didn't have to wait long; Ron threw the griffin into the air and quickly pulled out his wand. He pointed at it and shouted, "_Vincemus_!"

The figurine began to grow until it was the size of one of Ginny's old dolls; on its chest was the Gryffindor insignia, and it held something in its paws. Floating in the air as if it were standing on an invisible platform, the griffin held up what it was holding – a snake in Slytherin.

The snake hissed and lunged forward to sink its fangs into the griffin's coat. But the latter immediately threw the former down onto an invisible platform in the air, and pounced on top of it, its weight slowly crushing the life out of it.

The serpent uttered one last feeble hiss and seemingly died. The griffin then grabbed the "corpse" in its mouth and rose up, circling the Gryffindor stands. Opening its jaws, the griffin released a surprisingly mammoth roar and threw the snake out of its mouth as it were nothing more than a deflated balloon.

The Gryffindor stands erupted into cheers, shouts, and screams.

"_Vincemus! Vincemus! Vincemus…"_ they bellowed.

The griffin only prolonged it war cry, the sound merging with the roar of the Gryffindor fans. After a minute it stopped its flight and burst into nothing but light. Ginny thought that she could make out the words, '_Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes'_ before it faded.

Amidst the incessant shouting from the Gryffindors, Draco looked at Ron, his mouth parted slightly. The Keeper, grinning uncontrollably, received thwaps on the back from every member of his team.

"Don't frown like that, Malfoy," said Harry. "Everyone already knew that you'd come to an unfortunate end." Aside to Ron he said, "That was brilliant. You're telling me about it later."

Ron only continued smiling and nodded. Ginny snorted and looked at her brother with amusement; he'd caught Hermione's eye. The older girl was trying to put on a face of stern solidarity that was somewhat undermined by the smile that kept slipping out.

Madame Hooch then came running from out of the castle. "Sorry I'm late," she apologized. "But from what I saw as I was coming down, I think that both teams have had enough time to greet each other. Mount your brooms and begin on my whistle!"

The Gryffindors and Slytherins backed up to their respective sides of the field. The stands hushed and waited with anticipation for the shrill call. As if in slow motion, Madame Hooch sounded her whistle and threw the quaffle into the air. The Bludgers were then released, along with the Golden Snitch, which zoomed away into the distance, out of sight.

Ginny immediately went on guard; the snitch wasn't what she was supposed to be worrying about – that was Harry's job. Hovering momentarily in the air, she waited until she could hear the announcer to make her move.

"Gryffindor sixth-year Chaser, Troy McGinnis, passes to Chintz, using an absolutely _fabulous_ reverse pass to avoid the wayward Bludger that Bullstrode sent his way. Better luck next time Millie!" The new announcer was a cousin of Lee Jordan's, Kyla Jordan. Many had feared that she would not be as entertaining, but as the girl got used to her job, she relaxed into the role of Honored Commentator.

Ginny zoomed forward to look for Sebastian – this was one of the plays they had practiced. Troy would throw the quaffle to Sebastian, who would pass it on to her – she could already see him. Sebastian winked one of his hazel eyes and she knew he was ready.

Ducking under a bludger, Ginny moved forward to catch the quaffle Sebastian had just catapulted forward and deftly caught it.

She continued forward to the Slytherin goals and tried to score. Looking around surreptitiously for any competitors, Ginny tossed the quaffle in the air and prepared to hit it through the hoop with her broom tail. With an extra flourish, she soundly sent the quaffle through the silver hoop over the Keeper's head. The Gryffindors cheered, satisfied that they were awarded with the first points of the game.

From her far right, Harry caught Ginny's eye, smiled, saluted, and flew away looking for a bludger to smack. On his way, he saw Malfoy giving Ginny a malevolent look and intercepted it with a warning look of his own.

Draco remained silent and flew off. Ginny released a sigh and looked once more for Sebastian or Troy.

* * *

Forty minutes later, and one Chaser less, Ginny flew forward, staying low; she saw two Chasers setting up another play.

Earlier on in the game, a Slytherin beater had sent a fast bludger at a Gryffindor Beater, who was then sent to the Infirmary. Currently, she and the other two Chasers were flying on opposite sides of the field in front of her, and predictably, all of the Slytherin Beaters were trailing them, waiting for an opening.

They Slytherin team was getting careless because of the overwhelming lead the Gryffindors held, and left no one to guard her. Ginny watched as Troy threw the quaffle to Sebastian with a side pass, so that Sebastian would smack it through the hoop. One of the Slytherin Beaters sent a bludger for Sebastian, thinking that he could disable him before he scored more points, but was confused when Sebastian didn't hit the quaffle. He only threw it forward and ducked. Ginny rapidly came from behind and sent the quaffle flying through the hoop past the furious Keeper.

Kyla's commentary filled the air as the red and gold section of the stands erupted into cheers. "Gryffindor scores yet again! 210 to 50, Gryffindor! I'm looking forward to the celebration in the Common Room later!" Snape gave Kyla a distasteful glare; swallowing, she continued.

"Er, anyway, Slytherin now in possession!"

Ginny smiled happily and saw Harry. He gave her thumbs up with one hand, and then scrunching his eyebrows in concentration, looked for the snitch.

Ginny made a short victory loop and went back to the Gryffindor side. As soon as she turned she bumped into the front of another player. Flying backward she saw the face of Draco Malfoy smirking at her. Showing off, he sat on his broom without holding it and clapped slowly.

"Good shot, Weasley."

Surprised at Draco's daring – he was harassing her in the middle of a match – Ginny replied, "I know." She tried to swerve around him.

He blocked her.

She could see Ron peering at her and Harry looking concernedly up at her from his position closer to the ground.

Using the advantage of the distraction, Slytherin sent the quaffle sailing past the Ron, bringing the score to 60 to 210, still in favor of Gryffindor.

Ginny gave Malfoy a nasty look and swore. She tried once again to fly around the blond, but Draco was on a much faster broom, a Firebolt like Harry's, and he grabbed her arm tightly before she could get very far.

Pulling her back tightly so that she almost cried out he said, "You've got less brains than a _bludger_, Weasley. Don't forget that."

He released her and sped away, leaving her left arm throbbing slightly. Ginny rubbed her shoulder and dipped lower to catch a reverse sent from Troy, dismissing Draco's comment. He was nothing but an arrogant bully.

Speeding off toward the Slytherin goal post, Ginny noticed that something had gone wrong. She and Troy were exchanging passes, making their way up the field, but no Slytherin Beaters were following them. Instead of hitting bludgers at the Gryffindors, they were flying at whichever Chaser had the quaffle.

That usually meant one thing: a Centered Attack.  
The Beaters would send fast bludgers at the Chaser who held the quaffle all at once, from different directions. The chances that a Chaser could avoid both bludgers were exceedingly slim.

Quickly, matters became worse. A collective gasp ripped through the air from the Gyffindors as they looked at the lower field. Draco was zipping up toward the sky from near the ground: he had seen the snitch. Harry was about the same distance from the golden ball as Draco was, except he was closer to the sky as opposed to the ground. He'd air have to fly quickly to cancel out Malfoy's head start.

Then it dawned on Ginny, and she soared through the air toward the Slytherin goal. If she scored before Draco caught the Snitch, even with Slytherins extra points, Gryffindor would be able to beat Slytherin by 10 points.

But she would have to act quickly.

Receiving one last pass from Troy, Ginny raced toward the goal post and then heard Ron shout, "Ginny, look out!"

Ginny looked up at Ron questioningly; the beaters had found their target.

In the millisecond that Ginny used to look at Ron, Millicent Bullstrode sent one bludger careening for Ginny's head from the side, while the other Beater walloped his bludger at Ginny from the other side.

Uttering a small cry of surprise, Ginny managed to avoid being hit in the head by swiftly turning her broom upside down. However, the remaining it caught her in the side, almost completely knocking the breath out of her.

Ginny closed her eyes against the pain and grit her teeth. She was upside down on her broom, one hand gripping the Cleansweep as tightly as humanly possible, the other still clutching the quaffle. Her legs were wrapped around the end of the broom. Eyes momentarily closed, Ginny didn't look up and see the remaining bludger that was coming directly at her.

"Ginny!" Ron screamed.

She opened her eyes only to see the dark blue ball coming on furiously. She tried to swerve quickly, but the pain in her ribs hindered her from moving with much agility. Righting herself Ginny had no chance to make another move before the bludger struck the back of her head with a terrible crack. With a strangled cry, her hands slipped from the broom.

Falling.

It was different from _flying_. She simply dropped weightlessly through the air, red hair flying, barely holding onto consciousness, plummeted straight for the ground. The screams from the stands were lost on her. All she knew was searing pain in her side and on her skull, and as blackness encroached the edges of her mind, all she could think of was a sea of scarlet and ebony. Blood and oblivion.

Her body plunged between the outstretched hands of the two enemies, and desperately trying to grasp the last reaches of consciousness or another person's hands Ginny's grabbed weakly at the air until she clutched something cold and metallic.

Madam Hooch and Professor Dumbledore shouted a levitating charm a frightening moment before she slammed into the ground.

Only a few inches above, Harry and Draco looked blankly at each other, their fists closed. Then they looked at the wilted form on the ground.

Ginny had captured the snitch.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Remember to review!

Femme


	6. Chapter Six

Author's Notes: No real notes besides the thanks as usual that I have for everyone who reviewed. I'm glad that I had you guys wondering; I didn't think I would, but it shows that you're interested. This beginning of this chapter is going to be mostly of flashbacks interwoven with what is going on at the moment. I hope no one gets confused. But please tell me if you are.

Disclaimer: No, Harry Potter is not mine. It remains J.K. Rowling's brilliant creation.

_Analyze This_

* * *

"So, Mr. Malfoy, how have you been?"

Draco smirked. "I've had a…tiresome day, but I'm fine."

"Good!" Professor Martin declared. "We shall begin in a few moments; I'd like to wait until Ms. Weasley arrives."

She noticed that Draco's eyes hardened almost imperceptibly. "I know that this session was supposed to just belong to the two of you, but there are some things that I wanted to inform you of – both of you."

Draco listened silently. He was half-reclined on one of the plush leather chairs. It was the second half of Monday lunch, and so he had come to the room that was designated for his and Ginny's meetings. Professor Martin knew that Draco knew the reason for Ginny's absence, but she also knew that he wouldn't tell her unless she asked.

"But it is apparent that Ginny isn't here. She has already missed" – she looked at the clock – "seventeen minutes of the session. Do you know where she is?"

Draco looked out the window toward the lake. "The Hospital Wing."

Professor Martin was startled, but the only evidence that she revealed of being so was a slight widening of her eyes.

"Is she all right?"

"Slight Quidditch accident," Draco said sparingly.

The professor leaned back into her chair, relieved. "I wasn't aware that there had been a match." She spared a smile. "I was never fond of Quidditch – too dangerous. I remember students always coming late to classes when I was in school, due to all kinds of mishaps. However, bones are easily fused back together, especially with an expert Healer such as Madam Pomfrey –"

"Weasley won't be coming to this session, Professor," Draco said, nonplussed. "Injuries such as a bruised lung, two cracked ribs, a skull fracture and concussion aren't so easily…patched up."

Professor Martin gasped quietly and touched a hand to her heart. With an inner smirk, Draco noted that the woman was obviously not as stolid as she seemed. "How on earth did this happen?"

The hardened look returned to the blond's eyes and he looked away once more. If one searched, he or she might have been able to find the faintest traces of guilt hidden in its depths, although the owner himself would never admit it – he did not even realize that it was there.

"Bludgers are dangerous things," he answered.

* * *

Draco opened the door to the Infirmary with an expression like a thundercloud.

He brought up his hand to knock – he may have been cruel, but he had manners – but on second thought he just opened the door. From what he'd heard, Ginny was the only one in the room, and she was most likely under the influence of a sleeping potion. He strode inside and sat in the chair furthest from her bed. Her face was not visible due to the white curtains pulled around her, but the red of her hair was discernible enough through the translucent hangings.

After a moment or so, Draco checked the hospital clock.

'It's been at least ten minutes that I've been sitting here on the Good Professor's orders,' he thought irritably. The minute hand ticked to the green dot two spaces away from where it had been when he first entered. It had only been two measly minutes.

He slumped angrily in his chair. Then he straightened for two reasons. The first being that he would never slouch, and the second was that the girl behind the curtains had just moaned.

Wondering if he had woken her up, Draco went to pull the cloth aside to see her face. He hesitated for only a second, and then with a resolute frown, allowed himself to lean forward to look at her better.

He had not _really_ seen her at the end of the game the day before: as soon as her body had touched the ground, her brother and friends were at her side – as were Madam Hooch and her head of house.

* * *

"No one move her! Just make sure that she's awake!" Hermione ordered the crowd, slightly out of breath from running down the stands. Ron was torn between gathering her up and staying back. Not quite knowing which would afflict her more, he settled for watching her with a sick feeling in his gut.

"Someone call Pomfrey!" Harry shouted; shooting dark looks at the growing crowd of spectators.

"I'll get her!" Lark volunteered, right before running off. Professor McGonagall and the cat-eyed Quidditch instructor went with her.

"Don't shake her!" Hermione shouted, almost having a fit when Ron began to move her, even as gently as he was.

"Well then how in bloody hell am I supposed to keep her awake?!" he shouted back. There was bound to be a full-blown argument, when Ginny interrupted with a strangled moan. Ron's blue eyes widened in fear.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted, wringing her hands. "Check her pulse, Harry.". He did.

"She's – she's breathing," he said.

"I should hope so!" Hermione snapped. "How fast or slow?"

"Surprisingly quick," he replied, knowing that it was only out of worry that the Head Girl was being short.

"That's good; we won't have to use a charm on her to keep her awake. I'd rather not use magic without knowing how it would affect her."

"This should never have happened!" Ron insisted. Ginny was extremely pale, and had she not moaned he would have thought her dead.

"What were they _thinking_?" Colin asked emptily, from beside her.

"That they wanted to win," Harry said furiously, his eyes dark.

There was even more pandemonium if possible when Lark came back with the school Healer. Madam Pomfrey bustled toward Ginny, her wand waving in the air, lips moving. Ginny's body hovered a bit above the earth and a white stretcher materialized under her.

"I have _never_ been fond of this sport! All this unnecessary violence at high speeds and altitudes! Just look at this lovely girl… Oh, I'll see what I can do… Mr. Weasley, you may back away from your sister now," she prattled on, waving Ron off.

Ginny began to rise higher. "Heavens!" Pomfrey exclaimed.

Hermione gasped, Colin gaped, Lark began to cry, and Ron went whiter than milk.

"She's bleeding…" Harry said grimly. "Look at your arm." Ron did, and all saw a dark red smear against his lighter red Quidditch robes.

"Oh dear… I've got to go immediately." With further flicks of her wand, Ginny floated steadily but swiftly into the castle as thick bandages wrapped around her head.

"We're coming too," said Lark and Colin simultaneously.

"Come on, Ron," Hermione said quietly, taking him gently by the arm. Lark and Colin followed Madam Pomfrey quickly; Harry, Hermione, and Ron not far behind. They halted when they saw Draco loosening his cloak; he had just gotten off his broom.

"Are you happy now?" Ron shouted.

Draco glared at him. "As a matter of fact, no. Your sister all but collapsed on the snitch."

Ron's eyes flashed furiously and his right arm, which was still wet with Ginny's blood, struck out – but Harry pushed it away.

"We don't have time for this! Let's just go see how Ginny is doing. She would want you to be there and not here fighting with _him_."

Draco smirked. "Yes, yes; do run along – there are patients waiting."

"_Please_, Ron," Hermione plead. He looked in the direction of the castle; Ginny's hovering body was already gone from sight. His attention flickered back to the Slytherin captain.

"We _will_ finish this later."

"And I look forward to it."

If possible, Ron reddened even more, but said nothing further. He turned and stalked up to the castle; all of his friends following. Draco watched them balefully before making his way to the equipment shed.

Pansy ran up to him, screeching. "Draco! Draco!"

He didn't turn around; maybe she would get the hint.

"Draco!"

Maybe not.

"That Weasley girl caught the snitch."

Draco barely spared her a glance. "That does appear to be the case."

"So?" she asked. "What's going to happen? Who wins?"

He threw open the door to the shed. "I have no idea, Pansy."

Walking in, he deposited his broom carefully on a rack near the back. The rest of his teammates usually shucked their brooms into the shed, but as the proud owner of a Firebolt, Draco did no such thing. He usually kept his broom in the trunk under his bed (like Harry did), but at the moment, all he wanted to do was get out of his robes and take a shower. Some relaxing would not go far amiss either.

Draco began to take off the first layer, and then paused. He eyed Pansy, who stared back boldly.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Do you _mind_?" he asked.

Pansy shrieked with laughter at a joke only she knew. "Only if you do!"

"I do. Leave." Taking a protesting Pansy by the arm, he escorted her outside.

"We'll talk later – maybe," he added as the last of Pansy disappeared behind the closing door. "Peace at last," he muttered to himself continuing to undress.

The image of Ginny falling through the air came to him unbidden, and he muttered to himself in hopes of thinking of a distraction.

* * *

Draco brought his mind back to the troublesome present. All day long, the Elder Trio, and the remaining members of the younger one, had sent nasty looks at him.

In Transfiguration, Ron Weasley had brushed past his desk and knocked his bottle of ink onto the floor; the glass shattered, ink flew everywhere. Shooting hexes with his eyes at the redhead, Draco neglected to salvage his belongings.

With a wicked smile, Ron had pointed his wand at the mess on the floor. "_Evanesco_," he said. The ink and glass disappeared, leaving Draco with nothing to take notes with. Next to Ron, Harry flipped through his textbooks as if nothing was wrong, while Hermione looked nervously as the door, knowing that McGonagall would walk in at any moment.

"Quiet! Quiet! I was tending to a student; I did not intend for you all to engage in conversation. Are there not instructions written on the board? These are basic guidelines that you must commit to memory for your NEWTs, and even before that, an essay on this subject matter is due in seven days." A collective groan sounded. "Or, you could neglect to do the essay, and receive a P or less on your written exam." All went silent.

Draco sat still in his seat, with only one sheet of parchment out, refusing to stoop so low as to ask to borrow ink from his neighbor.

"Much better," the bespectacled professor told them shortly. "I've never known whining to get anyone an extra NEWT."

Draco noticed Hermione nodding profusely, and rolled his eyes in disgust. "Swot," he muttered. Ron stiffened; he must have heard. Draco snickered, pleased that he'd annoyed the redhead in at least one way. Unluckily, Professor McGonagall noticed it.

"Is there something amusing, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Not at all," he said loftily.

"Very well. Is it too beneath you to begin taking notes as I asked?"

"I don't have anything to take notes with." 'Old hag.' To his annoyance, the whole class turned to look at him, except for Ron and Harry who were busy trying to contain their laughter.

"Five points from Slytherin for coming unprepared! A seventh-year forgetting the basics? I shudder to think how you will do on your exams. You will find a way to obtain the notes before class tomorrow. Potter, Weasley, stop laughing, or it will be you next."

The day pretty much continued in the same way, although Ron and Harry did not dare try anything in Potions. After his last class before lunch, Madam Hooch strode up to him in the corridor and said, "I would like the Slytherin team to meet me tonight on the pitch at eight-thirty to discuss yesterday's events. Gryffindor will also be there. Do not be late." Before Draco could get a word in edgewise, she strode away, her cloak billowing behind her.

Once he was in the Great Hall, Draco picked up a sandwich and put it on his plate. He looked down the table at Crabbe and Goyle who were stuffing their faces and at Pansy who was primping and cleared his throat loudly. The table was effectively silenced and Blaise Zabini rolled his eyes at the show of deference the Slytherins offered their 'leader.'

"All Quidditch players meet on the pitch tonight at eight twenty for a meeting about yesterday."

Although the meeting would not start until ten minutes later, Draco knew that if his team showed up earlier they would already seem prepared and composed, unlike the Gryffindors, who he knew would most likely bumble down to the pitch after the meeting ended. It was an intimidation tactic his father taught him that proved useful – one of the few.

Taking a bite from his sandwich, he thought of the last time he'd tried it, and grinned in remembrance: he had used it when he was supposed to meet The Littlest Weasel for the first time in Professor Martin's classroom. Remembering what happened later in that meeting with Ginny, and what was happening now with her, Draco frowned and looked at the Gryffindor table. Catching Ron's eye, he quickly finished the rest of his sandwich and got up from the table.

"Where are you going?" Pansy asked.

"To serve my detention," he answered succinctly. Pansy knew that he did not want to talk about it and let him go.

The objects of Draco's thoughts burst through the door, and let the door slam shut. He made no noise to alert them of his presence; they would know he was there once they saw him.

"Do be quieter, Harry!" Hermione chastised. "You could wake the dead with all the noise you're making!"

The green-eyed boy blinked. "The dead in Hogwarts are already awake."

"You know what I mean!" she snapped. "Ginny needs her rest." Her eyes softened as they followed Ron's back to where his sister was, and Harry gave her a long look.

He was also about to say something, most likely embarrassing, when his eyes turned suddenly curious. Ron was not far from Ginny's bed, but was looking at something that made his tall frame rigid as if he were petrified, and his fists clench repeatedly.

"What's the matter?" he asked, pushing up his glasses warily.

"Why the hell are you here?" Ron demanded in a strangled sort of voice.

Harry and Hermione glanced at each; clearly befuddled.

"Well, you did ask us to come along; we wanted to anyway –" Hermione stumbled.

"Not you!" he snapped, turning his head to look at them. "This…_filth_…" he answered. Harry and Hermione took a few steps over, where they saw Draco sitting casually in a chair by Ginny's bed.

"You're one to talk," Draco said lazily.

"Get out," Ron ordered, leaving minimal room for complaint.

Draco smiled sardonically. "Make me."

Ron's eye twitched and he advanced. "I'd be glad to."

Draco quickly drew his wand from his robes and pushed his chair behind him. "Go on, then. Show me that you're actually worth something."

"Ron, stop!" Hermione shouted. "Not here!"

"He won't be here when I'm finished with him. He'll be through the wall." Ron was purple with rage. "How dare you even show your pasty face here?! You ordered that attack on her, and didn't even have the decency to see how she was faring afterward."

"Is it my fault that your excuse-for-a-witch sister fell off of her broom?" Draco jeered.

"She came onto this team by using her talent! Not money earned from hit jobs on innocent wizards."

In all the history of their fights, this was the first that Draco ever struck first.

Soon, he was grappling with Ron, wands lying forgotten on the pristine floor, while Hermione tried to shout them down. Draco spied an opening and hauled his fist into Ron's eye. While this _did_ hinder the redhead, Draco's momentarily paused in the after effect, and in that split second Ron slammed Draco's head onto the edge of Ginny's bed. The Sleeping Draught was proving to be one of frightening potency, as Ginny continued to sleep peacefully, removed from the battle just under her.

Harry went to pull them apart although he'd have liked to get a few good shots in as well. After Ron's fist swung near his face, though, he opted not to.

"What was I thinking?" He pointed his wand at Draco. "_Petrificus Totalus_!"

Draco froze instantly; his handsome face unusually red and eyes bright with fury. Ron was still for a second, his chest heaving, but when he moved, Harry jinxed him also. Had Ron been able to move, he would have asked Harry what he was on about.

"Now isn't the time to play favorites. If I could trust you to not kill Malfoy while he wasn't able to fight back, I'd take the jinx off you."

Picking up a broken chair – whose missing leg was under Ginny's bed – Hermione fixed it quietly. "_Reparo_." Sitting, she said wearily, "Sorry, Harry. I should've stopped them when they started."

Not bothering to fetch a chair, Harry slumped onto the floor. "Don't blame yourself. I enjoyed watching Malfoy be tossed around as well."

Hermione snorted softly. "That's not quite what I meant. Madam Pomfrey is going to be so disappointed with me," she lamented. "A Head Girl should not be involved in brawls in the Infirmary."

The four seventh-years waited anxiously but silently for the matron to appear and scold them within an inch of their lives. Madam Pomfrey was not one to disappoint, and she ambled into the room, thinking aloud about inventory that she would have to fill, and about checking up on her patient.

"What now?!" she exclaimed on sight of them. "What have you all been doing in my Infirmary?"

Hermione took it upon herself to explain that she, Ron, and Harry had wanted to visit Ginny.

"Malfoy," Hermione gave the owner of the name a dirty look, "must have already been here for some reason, and when Ron saw him, they both lost their tempers. Harry was forced to immobilize them both for everyone's safety."

"But Malfoy threw the first punch." Harry made sure that this was known, and Ron gave his friend a grateful look.

"What does that matter?!" Madam Pomfrey protested. "Both resorted to primal Muggle means to resolve their problems, and I will not have it! _Finite Incantatem_," she muttered in between admonishments. Draco's body unfroze when the spell was off of him, but the tension was still evident in his movements.

"Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy?" the mediwitch asked tersely.

"Peachy," he said sarcastically. His expensive robes were torn at the sleeve and various seams were coming undone. A rapidly forming bruise bloomed on one of his cheekbones and when he ran his hand through his mussed up hair, he winced. Madam Pomfrey, not missing a thing ordered him to her.

Draco glared, but to end any arguments, she informed him that points would have to be taken away for brawling, but she could take more away for refusing to cooperate. He sat in a chair grudgingly and let her inspect his scalp.

"There seems to be some tenderness in this area…" She prodded her finger on a spot that made Draco start reflexively, and then settle into his chair when he noticed Harry smirking at him.

"I'm glad that you found what you were looking for," he bit out in pain.

Where Ron had all but bashed his head into the edge of Ginny's bed, there was a tender, swollen section of skin. It was not enough to keep him in the Hospital Wing overnight, but it was painful enough.

"Stay still."

"There's no need to –" Draco protested.

"To walk around _bleeding_ at the head! Sit still!" After various waves of her wand, the swollen bump eased down to its normal state and the throb began to ebb. "It will still feel tender in some places. Make sure that you don't do anything to split it open again."

"Right. I'll be sure not to slam my head into any metal posts," he muttered. Giving one last sour look at the Trio, and an especially triumphant one at Ron, Draco left the Infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey removed the Full Body-Bind from Ron and he shot up instantly.

"Why did you let him go?! He came in here trying to harass Ginny while she was sick and then started a fight with me –"

"From what it sounds like, Mr. Weasley, you provoked Mr. Malfoy into fighting with you. And while I do not place the blame entirely on you, it does not mean that I will tolerate your tone of voice!" She healed a black eye, and some cuts on his jaw efficiently and sent him on his way, muttering about students who had no respect for the medical institution

Ron continued to fume while he headed for the Gryffindor Tower.

"I still want to know what he thought he was doing there without anyone to supervise him," Ron said to Harry.

"That doesn't matter right now!" Hermione objected. "We didn't even get to ask how Ginny was progressing. I hope that she's doing better…"

Harry nodded his agreement. "She was in rough shape."

Ron remembered what Ginny's injuries were like when she first entered the Wing and boiled even more.

Where the first bludger had hit, there was a vast angry bruise, which spread from her hipbone to a few centimeters under her rib cage. Madam Pomfrey chose to keep Ginny levitated a little above the bed to avoid any more undue pain. Lark had been asked to hold Ginny's hand and squeeze it every few minutes to ensure that she remained at least semi-conscious.

However, when Ron had arrived after his small argument with Draco, he took over. The most immediate injury was the bleeding from Ginny's head. Pomfrey believed that it was a possible skull fracture, and with a complex spell that Ron had never heard of, she repaired the damaged cranium. Seeing the trailing from his sister's trademark Weasley head made Ron feel sick. He'd not felt that way since the Chamber, and even then he had had something to keep him occupied, what with making sure the Lockhart didn't jump out the lavatory window to see if Hogwarts was _really_ a castle.

This time all he could do was squeeze Ginny's hand every few minutes, not even knowing if she felt it.

Even if Ron did not want Draco near Ginny under any circumstances, any respectful and human person would come to see the person that they had injured. Ron was convinced that Draco had only come to the Hospital Wing to do Ginny ill.

Hermione had tried to tell him that it was not _necessarily_ Malfoy's fault that Ginny was hurt, but Harry had been very skeptical.

"So Millicent the Bull simply decided that she wanted to knock Ginny's block off with one of the most advanced and dangerous Quidditch moves? She doesn't even know how to _spell_ Quidditch."

Hermione ceased all protesting after that.

But Ron continued to think about it. When he had seen Draco harassing Ginny in the air, he knew that they had exchanged words. He had been singling Ginny out for a while now, and Ron was determined to get to the bottom of it.

* * *

It was a warm night, with birds still crying in the sky, trying to catch up with fellow members of their flock to rest for the night.

Many students were taking advantage of the evening, for Draco saw a few couples trying to sneak out of the castle.

Not surprisingly, Pansy had decided to join him, even though she was not a member of the Quidditch team. He did not spite her for it this time and went to check his watch – 8:18 – he was early.

"It's such a nice night, Draco," Pansy said admiringly, though Draco was unsure if she was admiring the scenery or him.

"I know," he said flatly, looking at the doors for any signs of his teammates. He spotted Millicent and Nathaniel Crawe approaching slowly. Crawe was the Beater who had assisted Millicent with the centered attack. A sixth year of noble bulk, he was a good player with a competent ability to understand strategy.

"It's a shame that it has to be wasted on this."

Draco looked at Pansy who was lowering herself to the ground slowly. She looked at him with a brazen smile playing on her pink lips and then looked away, trying to appear coy and fetching as she arranged her robes around her on the grass. It was easy to like Pansy when she was silent, as she was just then.

She was not an ugly girl at all, although her constant chatter and cruel smile marred her looks. After shifting her robes, Pansy then attended to her hair, Draco still watching her. He did not hate her – they were too alike in many aspects for him to do that. But she was an annoyance to him and the cause of many headaches that he had. Draco could never see himself committing to Pansy, as she expected him to do, for the reason that while she was always there – fetching his cloak, spooning him porridge, fixing his tie (all the while chattering and making rude comments about people around them) – she was never _really_ there in the sense that she was a complete person.

'She's definitely full-blooded in the literal sense,' he thought with a wry grin, reminiscing about the many late nights they had spent together. However, she seemed more of an automaton, programmed for simple tasks such as: make fun of the poor people, flirt with Draco, flip hair, apply beauty charms, and smile. She possessed no ability to understand people in an in depth way, and had absolutely no _desire_ to understand people – not even her dear Drakey.

Draco knew that every person needed someone to understand them; and he knew that he was not a nice person, but that there was more to him than people realized. Looking at Pansy finishing with her hair, he then realized that Pansy _did_ understand that there was more to Draco than met the eye, but that she didn't care.

"Draco."

The captain looked up surprised, but hid it well – during his little inspection of Pansy, the rest of the team had arrived. He looked at his watch – 8:22 and nodded with satisfaction. Then he looked at the person who called his name – Ardin Crawe.

She was a Slytherin sixth-year, but unlike her brother Nathaniel, she had only been to Hogwarts for the past three years; the current one included. Her first years of schooling were spent at – to Draco's hidden envy – Durmstrang. While she was not a born and bred Hogwarts student, she more than made up for it on the Quidditch field. A swift Chaser (who was much smaller than her ape of a brother), Ardin understood the finer points of the game much like her brother. However, unlike Nathaniel, Ardin was a born leader; a fact that came in handy at times when Draco was not in range to ensure that the team was concentrating. However, her leadership skills also caused her to be put into her place on multiple occasions.

"Yes, Ardin."

"I don't see the Gryffs. The meeting should be starting, right?" A few other members of the team also nodded in confusion.

"No," Draco said authoritatively. "_Our_ meeting starts now. The official one with Hooch does not start for another eight minutes."

His smooth voice filled the area around the team members – and Pansy – and they listened attentively.

"Then why are we here?" The Chaser prodded.

Draco gave her a superior look. "For the lazy ones of you with no imagination I will explain. Intimidation does not only happen on the field, it happens in the hallways, in classes, in the Great Hall. The other team will most likely feel self-conscious, as we are already here and ready to begin. Anyway, the Slytherin team will not come creeping into meetings when they are half over and look like a group of imbeciles. Satisfied?"

Ardin crossed her arms defiantly and tossed her dirty blond hair over her shoulder. Draco saw in her sapphire eyes that she wanted to start trouble and waited for the bombshell.

"Not completely. What happened out there yesterday?" she accused. "You were on the snitch and then Potter starting gaining on you. Did Weasley actually steal it from under your nose?"

If there were any teammates who had been having side conversations, or just not paying attention, they were all suddenly miraculously drawn to the topic at hand. But, before he could answer, Madam Hooch came down with Harry, Ron, Troy, and Sebastian. Nevertheless, as the Slytherin team straightened and began to glare, Draco could not help but smirk on realizing that he was right – the whole Gryffindor team was not yet present.

When the two teams were together – but not too close – Madam Hooch glanced at her watch and then at the castle, where the remaining Gryffindor team members could be seen running down the hill to the lakefront where everyone else was.

Draco chuckled cruelly and a few of his teammates did also – Pansy included. Harry and Ron glared at him furiously and he said offhandedly,

"You know the saying, 'take a picture –"

"And then burn the real thing," Ron finished.

"Enough," Madam Hooch ordered. "We are here to discuss a problem, not create one. Now someone who is well informed on yesterday's unfortunate situation please summarize it to all present."

"What happened," said Ron, "was that Malfoy told his lackeys to attack my sister when they knew that they were about to lose. What's happening now is that Ginny is recuperating in the Hospital Wing and hasn't woken up since the game."

"And she probably won't wake for another day or so," Pansy said nastily, screeching at her own joke. Millicent chuckled her appreciation and slapped hands with Nathaniel.

"That is certainly…one side of the story," Hooch said. Then she nodded at Draco to say his piece.

Draco hesitated, cocking his head as if it required much thought, and then said, "All I recall is a lousy, red-headed bombshell being slippery with her broom, falling, and then catching the snitch. She couldn't do her own job properly, so she decided to do mine."

Ron looked murderous. "Your only job is to pretend that you're actually competition against Harry!"

"Thank you for both your statements!" Hooch said loudly. "I have assessed the problem, and the only thing I see fit is that…well, there will have to be a rematch."

There was silence.

"A bloody rematch! You've got to be mad!"

"Excuse me, Mr. Weasley, I'd thank you not to speak to me that way."

"There has to be an alternative," Harry said liberally.

"Yes, there is one," she responded. "An automatic loss for both teams, and no points recorded for either as well." This was greeted with even less enthusiasm from both teams.

"But that will put us below Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw," Harry protested. "We'd never catch up!"

"Those are your two options! I'll give the captains five minutes to decide and then the matter will be settled."

Harry and Draco stepped in front of their respective teams.

"I won't lose without a chance, Malfoy," Harry said. "I want the rematch."

Draco sneered. "Then you'll lose without a doubt. Rematch it is."

* * *

The next day, Draco could again be seen exiting the exotic Professor Martin's room and heading for the Hospital Wing.

"This is absolutely ridiculous," he said aloud, opening the door.

On seeing him, Madam Pomfrey greeted, "Hello, again, Mr. Malfoy. How is your head doing?"

"Fine," he said shortly. He straightened his robes and tried to appear as imperial as possible, which was not very hard as he did it every day.

Tidying up the beds around the vast room, the medic answered, "Then why are you here?" She gave him a sly look as if she expected him to be up to no good.

Draco thought about a way he could answer without letting the woman think that he could be bullied or that he actually wanted to be there. "Professor Martin has asked me to spend the end of my lunch periods here to…visit Weasley."

Not pushing it any further, the busy woman said, "Fine. However I will not be here to watch you. I must go to the Potions Master for some ingredients for various medicines."

Clearly uninterested in the woman's excuses or any of her business, Draco shrugged his shoulders.

"While I am gone, I expect that you will behave yourself. This is a place of healing, not a place of _war_, and I trust that you will show respect for the rules of the Infirmary." Giving a bed a last pat, and checking on Ginny who was still sleeping, Madam Pomfrey walked past Draco and exited, making sure that the door was wide open.

He went to the chair beside her bed, and then moved it away a small amount. After a few minutes, curiosity got the better of him and Draco moved closer to look at the redhead. He was going to do that the previous afternoon, but Harry, Ron and Hermione came and started a fight.

Most of her injuries were not evident anymore, as most of them had been internal, but there was a bandage around Ginny's head, and through the thin hospital gown he could see bandages around her ribs and abdomen.

Ginny was a good deal paler than he remembered – on the couch in for their first session. Her freckles stood out a little more than usual; bundled up and pale, she resembled a pixie. All in all, even with all of her bandages, Ginny looked a great deal better than she had at the end of the game; at least there was no blood.

Not realizing how intent he had been on his examination, Draco started when Ginny made a noise and he scowled; trying to cover up his surprise with annoyance.

"All of this moaning is really getting old," he said aloud, turning to pour some water for himself from a pitcher on a table in back of him.

"Then…I'll try and find another way…to express my pain," a croaky voice from the bed said.

Draco turned back to Ginny to find her eyes blinking repeatedly, now open. She tried to sit up, but gasped in pain and fell back onto the bed. Ginny turned her head stiffly to see if anyone was in the room and her eyes widened when they fell on Draco.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

* * *

Please review!

- Femme


	7. Chapter Seven

_Author's Notes_: Surprise, there are no real notes except to people at the bottom. This is going to be another long one, so full speed ahead! As usual, all reviews are welcome, even flames, but constructive ones are better.

_Disclaimer_: Harry Potter and all other characters used (except for Professor Martin) are property of the talented J.K. Rowling.

_Analyze This_

* * *

"_Thank you_, Mr. Malfoy for sitting here with me while I was in my bed sleeping, and you sat there bored out of your bloody mind. Oh no, don't thank me at all, Weasley," Draco drawled.

Ginny glared at him with all the strength she could muster. "_Thank you?!_ You must be insane! It's your fault that I am in here. I certainly didn't want you here, and I don't want you here now! I thought I heard Madam Pomfrey say 'Hello again' to you. Don't tell me that you've graced me with your presence more than once, Malfoy," Ginny said sarcastically, immersing herself in her sheets and muttering assorted insults and comments. Gathering her self-control she sighed and glared at him once more, ignoring the fierce headache that straining her eyes brought.

"But for the sake of conversation – you know, so that you're not _bored_ – tell me why you're here and then leave. But don't forget to call Madam Pomfrey when you go."

Draco sat back in his own chair and sipped his water appreciatively, making sure to make a show out of it. For Ginny had to certainly be thirsty after going a day and a half without any food or water. Her scratchy voice was proof of that. He looked at her thirsty eyes watching him while he then drained the glass.

"Parched?" he taunted.

Ginny stuck her nose in the air. "As if I'd take anything from you."

"Fine." He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm here because you got yourself into an accident -"

"Don't even - it wasn't my fault! You knew that you weren't capable of catching that snitch before I would have scored. You knew that you were going to lose and so you asked your private apes to assault me and I ended up here. How dare you even come here and –"

"You sound so much like your brother," Draco said off-handedly.

Ginny forgot about her previous rant and demanded, "How would you know?"

"Well, that _is_ how he sounded right before I smashed his face in," he said casually.

"You hit him?" Without waiting for an answer, Ginny ordered him to leave. "Get out."

All Draco did was laugh. "Sorry; I'm on special orders from Professor Martin to remain here and 'keep you company'."

Ginny was unrelenting. "You are relieved of your duties," she spat. "Get out. I don't want you here."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Are you hard of hearing? Or maybe you'd just prefer Potter –"

"GET OUT! Get out, I don't want you here!" Ginny screamed. "If you think that you can come here when I'm not feeling well and harass me because I can barely move you're wrong! Now if you don't leave, I'm going to scream."

Draco's eyebrow rose in doubt of whether Ginny actually would scream, or if she could scream any louder than she was already.

"You think I'm joking, Malfoy? Just watch me."

Draco continued to sit, and Ginny opened her mouth.

"Forget it, Weasley," he said. The last thing he needed was to have the Trio run in and claim that he was trying to finish her off. "At least I have an excuse to leave now. And when you speak to Professor Martin, make sure to tell her that you went mad and told me to leave." He rose and walked to the door. When he opened it, he came face to face with Madam Pomfrey who saw a redhead sitting up in bed.

"Is Ms. Weasley awake?" she asked Draco.

He smirked and said, "By her appearance she looks dead, but if you want to be technical, she is alive. Although I'm not sure she's of sound mind."

With that said, he swept out of the door leaving the medic to make sure that he was just being sarcastic.

* * *

As soon as Ginny saw Draco leave the Infirmary, she fell into her bed once again. She had not realized that she had been sitting up in the first place until the room began to spin and her headache turned into a fierce migraine. Shutting her eyes against the pain, she began to feel a steady throbbing in her side and crammed her eyelids together.

When she was arguing with Draco, she had done a good job of not letting him see that she was in pain, even though she was. The screaming and yelling had not only made her throat sore, but also left her short of breath. Adding the injury of her broken ribs, she was surprised that she was still alive.

Summing it all up, Ginny croaked, "I feel like shite."

"Oh, no young lady. I'll not have that language in my Infirmary." Madam Pomfrey bustled around Ginny's bed getting the proper instruments to do a check up. "I know that it will hurt, but you're going to have to sit up so I can check your side."

Ginny groaned and tried unsuccessfully to hoist herself up. "I think I'll need a bit of help with that actually," she said listlessly.

She hated being helpless.

"Of course," Pomfrey insisted. "As a matter of fact, I want you to drink some water while you're sitting up. And then eat a small bit of chocolate; you're going to need it."

Ginny grimaced and braced herself. "Am I allowed to have a charm against the pain?"

"YOU'RE UP!"

"And here is one of your loyal visitors now," Madam Pomfrey said dryly.

"Lark!" Ginny exclaimed happily; though her voice sounded more like a yelp. The medic had just pressed her finger into a tender area on Ginny's side.

"How are you feeling?" Lark asked eagerly.

Ginny gave her friend a sour look with her eyebrow raised in response. Right after, Ginny released another yelp; it was Lark's turn to grimace. "About those anti-pain charms"?"

Madam Pomfrey continued her examination. "I'm sorry, dear, but you may only have one after this first examination."

"Why?" Lark asked, seeing her friend evidently in pain.

"Well, because of the nature of your injuries –"

"GINNY!"

"Colin!" Ginny yelped again.

From behind Colin, a redheaded seventh year burst forth.

"Ronnie!" Ginny said in pleasure. She could see Hermione and Harry also coming from behind.

"I thought you would never wake up," Ron exclaimed as the whole group gathered around Ginny's bed. "How are you feeling?"

As Madam Pomfrey pulled up Ginny's gown slightly to put a little pressure on Ginny's ribs, her eyes watered in pain.

"As best as one can feel when they are only a few paces away from dying in pain," she gasped.

"I'm sorry Ms. Weasley," Pomfrey said again. "However, _now_ you may have the charm. _Revulnerum_."

Ginny's shoulders relaxed; she sighed and rested back. "As I was saying before, I wouldn't perform the charm because the natures of your injuries were not ones where they would be gone by just using magic; you need to rest and your body will heal itself."

"I don't understand," Colin said. "You fix broken arms and bones in only a few minutes."

Harry frowned in remembrance of his painful experience that took a full night.

"I think I understand," Hermione interjected, looking toward Madam Pomfrey. "A bone can just be 'snapped back together', if you will. But for injuries like broken ribs and concussions that affect a person's actual system, the body needs to heal itself, although magic can be used a little. Is that why you could use a charm to fix Ginny's skull fracture, but not the other injuries?"

"Precisely!" Madam Pomfrey beamed. Hermione's eyes shone.

"Show off," Ron said, but he too was smiling.

"I'm really glad that all of you are here. The only company I've gotten so far was Malfoy."

"_What_?!" Ron's good humor was gone.

"I didn't ask him to come!" Ginny said, defending herself. "As a matter of fact, I asked him to leave, right before he told me something interesting," she continued, meaning Ron's fight with him. Ron ignored Ginny's insinuation completely.

"What did he want? Why was he here?" he demanded.

Ginny sighed. "He said that Professor Martin told him to come. I didn't get a chance to ask him why, though. I sort of told him that if he didn't leave, I would scream," she finished sheepishly.

Ron gave her a big smile. "Well done, Ginny."

Lark rolled her eyes. "She is in no position to scream at anyone." Gesturing at Ginny's many bandages she said, "The effort would probably hurt her."

Ginny childishly stuck her tongue out.

"Sacrifices must be made," Ron replied. Lark rolled her eyes in response while Colin laughed.

"Speaking of sacrifices," Harry interjected, "Were you trying to score before Malfoy or I caught the snitch? You would have, had he not lost his mind."

Ginny smiled. "I'd thank you, but there isn't reason to – like you said, I didn't score on time. When you caught the snitch, did you tie the game?" she asked.

This put a considerable damper on the mood.

"Actually, Ginny, I thought that you would remember; _you_ caught the snitch."

She blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"When you were knocked off of your broom, you fell in between Malfoy and me," Harry explained, putting his hands in his pockets. "Last night the team and Slytherin had to meet with Hooch, and she – well Malfoy and I" – Harry said this with hesitation, he it seemed wrong that he and Draco's name should be in the same sentence – "decided that a rematch should be held."

"A rematch?!" Ginny exclaimed. Ron and Harry nodded. "But that can't be! We worked our arses off –"

"Ms. Weasley…" Madam Pomfrey warned.

"I'm sorry, but – we, we worked really hard…! How will there be time to hold another match? We still have to play Ravenclaw, and all the other teams still have matches. We'll have to cram an extra game into the season."

Harry sat down in the chair that Draco formerly occupied. "It sounds crazy, but that was the only reasonable solution. The other was that the match would be disregarded completely."

"It would be as if a match between us never happened," Colin put in. Harry nodded.

"And if that was recorded, then we would be at least 100 points below Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff at best; we would go down without a chance at the Cup," Harry finished.

Ginny continued to lie dejectedly in her bed. "If that's the best thing...When will the new match be?"

"It's going to be the last match of the season, Madam Hooch says," answered Harry. "That way, all of the other games won't have to be rescheduled to fit in the new one."

"Then I'll be ready," Ginny said optimistically. "When do you think that I'll be able to leave the Infirmary, Madam Pomfrey?" Ginny asked.

"Not for quite a while," she answered negatively. "You're healing nicely; the fracture is gone, though there is still considerable tenderness, and the concussion is all but gone. The only factors against you are a lethargy that you'll feel because of the entire trauma to your head, and your ribs will take a bit longer than anything else to heal. Adding all of those factors up, and if you continue to recover the way you are now, you should be up and around by Friday or Saturday; Sunday the latest."

"Sunday!" Ginny, Ron, Harry, Colin and Lark exclaimed.

"What will I do here all day? All _week_, practically?!" Ginny asked.

"She can't neglect her studies for that long!" Hermione exclaimed.

"She needs to practice for all of the upcoming games!" Ron said.

"What she needs is rest!" Madam Pomfrey disagreed. "Look at the time! All of you, off to your classes; it is time for Ms. Weasley to get some sleep." She began to shoo them out of the door.

"All I've done for the past day and a half is sleep!" Ginny protested.

"And you will do more of that!"

"Don't worry, Ginny," Lark insisted on her way out. "Colin and I will collect all of your work so that you won't get behind."

"And Ron and I'll make sure to include you in the new strategies for the games," Harry put in.

"All right!" Ginny replied, sitting up pain-free to watch them exit. The door shut. "Goodbye…"

* * *

_"No – No! NO, Harry! Pay attention or else you'll miss the snitch," Ginny yelled at him. It was the rematch for Slytherin versus Gryffindor; the serpents were in the lead five hundred points._

_Harry, however, refused to listen and was making bets on a skirmish down below. Ron and Draco were fighting; they were ramming their brooms into each other, when suddenly, Ron's head disappeared and became the head of his broom. Draco jumped off of his broom and hit Ron with it._

_Looking up at Ginny he said, "See, I told you Weasel, I smashed your brother's face in." Giving her a charming smile, he went back to his business._

_"Stop, Draco!" Ginny plead. "Don't hurt him!" All of a sudden she was wearing Harry's glasses. She saw the snitch. _

_"Go get it, Ginny!" Colin shouted from the stands. Ginny smiled at him quickly, and looked to Lark for motivation, but she was laughing with Seamus. Narrowing her eyes, Ginny veered down. She saw Hermione crying over her brother – who was still a broom – while Draco continued to hit him._

_"Stop hitting him, Draco!" Ginny screamed, still chasing the snitch. "I'll do anything!" Draco looked up, and in the next instant was sitting on the tail of Ginny's broom. He inched closer to her when she turned around._

_"Anything…?" He looked into her eyes and tugged her hair gently, his face came closer. Ginny swallowed and nodded feebly; his silver eyes were the most beautiful things in the world. "Anything?" he repeated, beginning to smile._

_"Y-yes," Ginny stuttered. He pulled her closer, Ginny closed her eyes; she could feel his breath on her lips, then next to her ear._

_"Then fly," he whispered, still smiling. Ginny opened her eyes in confusion, but before she could ask him what he meant, he smirked and pushed her off the broom. She was sailing through the air. Colin was still screaming for her to get the snitch, the ground was coming closer. She began to scream._

_"Ginny!" _

_She was about to hit the earth – _

_"GINNY!"_

"GINNY!"

Ginny shot up in bed breathing heavily, looking around. Someone grabbed her and when she looked, the person had gray eyes.

"Aahh!" she shrieked, shooting backward, grabbing a sheet to shield her, ignoring the pain the spiked up her side.

"Ginny, calm down!"

Ron was looking at Ginny with alarm: she was sweaty, disheveled, and her eyes were as wide as a deer's in wandlights. Slowly, Ron moved a little closer, not too quickly in case she wanted to strike out at him.

"Ron?" she whispered in confusion. It was dark. There were a few other shadows around him. There was a gleam on one of them – a silver gleam.

Ginny moaned and moved back a little more – then Harry came into sight. His glasses had caught the light.

"_Harry?_" Ginny breathed. She sighed deeply and fell back into the overstuffed pillow that was battered from her flailing. She continued to try to steady her breathing. 'Everything is fine; Madam Pomfrey told me to get some rest. I must have been sleeping for a long time.' "You two scared me half to death."

"You scared _us_," Hermione said, and Ginny's head turned to meet her. Ginny continued to breathe deeply and patted her sweaty forehead.

"What was the matter?" Ron asked concernedly. "Was it something to do with the Chamber –?"

"No!" Ginny said quickly, shaking her head. "Nothing like that." She could see all of them let out a breath.

"What was it then?" asked Harry.

Ginny laughed croakily and Hermione reached for the pitcher of water. "Thanks, Hermione," she said. She took a sip and told them, "I just had the…oddest dream."

"Really?" said Hermione, fascinated. "What about?"

"Well," she began. "It was the game against Slytherin" – Harry and Ron groaned – "and we were really behind; almost five hundred points."

Ron laughed. "Like that would happen!"

"Well it was a dream!" said Ginny. "Anyway," she continued, feeling more like herself, "you were fighting with Dr –" Ginny stopped "Er, Malfoy…Malfoy," she said quickly. "And then your head disappeared from your body and became the broom head –"

"I had a broom head?" Ron said.

"_No_," said Ginny. "The broom had your head, and then –"

"Then what about my body?" he interrupted again. Harry snorted.

Ginny waved her hand. "That doesn't come in now, that comes in later when Hermione cries over it."

Harry hooted with laughter while Hermione blushed and ducked her head.

"Oh," said Ron simply, turning a bit red. "Go on then."

Ginny rolled her eyes and pushed some hair back that had escaped the gauze wrap. "As I was saying, the broom got your head. Then Malfoy started to hit your broom-head with his Firebolt. I asked him to stop, but he didn't. And then I got Harry's glasses…that's the part where Hermione cried for you, Ronnie," Ginny teased. "Colin was cheering me on, but Lark was laughing with Seamus while Malfoy kept hitting you." Ginny stopped. In the next part she told Draco that she would do anything for him, and then he came on her broom to kiss her – or so she thought. Or wanted…

"And then?" Harry said eagerly, still laughing.

Ginny clasped her hands together and said rapidly, "And then I fell off of my broom and Ron woke me up."

"You must be psychic," Ron teased, not noticing Ginny's shabby ending. Ginny looked at him questioningly.

"Well," said Hermione, getting over her actions in the dream, "we just saw Lark laughing with Seamus; they were walking to the common room together. Ginny noticed again that it was dark and that the lamps were on.

"What time is it?" she asked.

Hermione looked at her watch. "About eight-thirty; you've been sleeping all day. We came here after dinner to see how you were, and asked Colin to come, but he said that he had a letter to owl and said that he would see you tomorrow."

Ginny nodded. "Speaking of me being psychic, Ronnie," she said slyly, "what's this I hear about you brawling in the Infirmary?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders complacently, but his eyes darkened. "Malfoy was here to bother you when you were sleeping. We had a difference of opinion; nothing unusual. Ginny," he said suddenly. "What did he want when he came earlier?"

Ginny sighed. "He said that Professor Martin _told_ him to come – not in those words, though. He made sure that I got the point that he wanted nothing to do with me, and that the visit was completely against his will."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know that it might be difficult because of the meetings you two have together, but don't try and antagonize him if you can help it."

"If she can help it?!" Ron said incredulously.

Hermione continued on. "You know that he's held resentment against all of us ever since…well, ever since…fifth year…" she finished softly. All eyes present went nervously to Harry, who did not bother to avoid their gaze.

"He still blames me for what happened to his father in the Department of Mysteries. You were all there, so you'll get just as much of it, unfortunately…" he said very quietly. He peered intently into Ginny's eyes and held her gaze. "You'll have to watch yourself around him, Ginny. The Order" (he said that very bitterly) "can't watch over us at Hogwarts – not really. I don't want to visit the Infirmary anymore…"

Not knowing what to say to that, Ginny simply sat up and hugged him tightly. Right after, Hermione, being the emotional one joined the hug, sniffing, but not crying. Even Ron gave Harry a one armed hug, wanting to maintain his manliness and all.

When it ended, and Hermione was only sniffling softly, Ron said, "Well, we only want to see you in the Hospital Wing if it's a Quidditch injury; those are acceptable."

The somber mood was broken; Harry chuckled a bit and Hermione smacked Ron in the arm.

Trying to hold back a yawn but failing, Ginny looked at him and then at Ron's watch. "I almost forgot! You lot have NEWTs coming up! You can't be here! Look at the time – you have homework to do, and things to study for. Out! Out now!"

Ron held his hands up in defense. "Is this the way you kicked Malfoy out?" Ginny glared at him and continued to push Harry to him.

"Thank you for visiting me, though. It's nice to see something other than the white walls, but now you must go!"

"Fine, fine," Harry said laughing.

Hermione was already at the door and looking guilty for not thinking of her studies sooner. "I really am hanging around these two too much," she said to Ginny. "Especially this one," she said grabbing Ron's arm. When she saw that Harry was lagging behind she gave an exaggerated sigh and grabbed him too. "Bye, Ginny!"

"Bye!" Harry called.

"Sweet dreams!" Ron echoed down the hallway.

Ginny was left to her thoughts. 'Yeah, sweet dreams.'

Before she could get too distracted with her thoughts, Madam Pomfrey came in with a tray. "Good, you're awake." She set down the tray on Ginny's bedside. "I came earlier to see if you were hungry, but you were sleeping.'

"Yes…I guess I was more tired than I thought," said Ginny.

"Well then you must be famished. Here, you can't have anything to heavy." Dinner proved to be a chicken soup with a roll of bread on the side, and a fruit salad for dessert.

"Thank you," said Ginny politely. She was hungry, but not famished, and the soup and fruit would probably be enough.

By the time Ginny had finished the soup and was halfway through the fruit, Lark came through the doors with a gigantic smile on her face that wasn't even buried by the large amount of books in her arms.

"Lark!" said Ginny putting down her fruit cup. "What have you got there?"

"The Transfiguration essay, Care of Magical Creatures project guidelines, Divination homework, and last but certainly not least, the Potions essay," the raven-haired girl chirped. Ginny eyed her warily.

"What's got your knickers in a lovely twist?" she asked. Lark was rarely this...jubilant, especially not when talking about mountains of homework.

Lark set the load down on a table and stared dreamily about her; then she gave a little giggle.

"Lark?" Ginny repeated.

"That's my name, no?" she said happily. Ginny watched her friend and then thought quickly. She had just been with Seamus, no wonder.

"He was that good, eh?" said Ginny silkily.

"All that and more," said Lark dreamily, swaying slightly. Abruptly she stopped, thought about what she just said and then blushed furiously. "I mean I think he is! Because I don't…n-not that I would know anything…_anything_ about…well, you know…how good…er…"

Ginny erupted with laughter. "Tell me everything!"

Getting over her flustered state, Lark was only too happy to oblige. Sitting on half of Ginny's bed she said, "Well, it wasn't really much. I'm probably just exaggerating. You know how I get," she said by way of explanation, still smiling at Ginny.

Ginny smirked and put some of her hair in her face and tousled it a little in imitation of Lark's locks. Batting her eyelashes rapidly she played with her fingers and said, "Oh, Seamus. Giggle, giggle. Oh, you! Tee-hee. Oh, stop!" She hit Lark playfully on the shoulder pretending that Lark was Seamus. "You're just too much." Dropping the act, Ginny began to laugh even more at the offense on Lark's face.

Lark's eyes were wide. "I most certainly do not act like that, Ginevra Weasley!"

Ginny only laughed harder. There was the hint of a smile at the corner of Lark's lips, and then she too began to laugh.

"Sorry," Ginny apologized, getting a handle on her giggles. "Do go on."

Lark smiled again. "I was coming out of the Great Hall to pick up your books so that you could do your homework while you were in here, when Seamus began talking to me." Ginny's eyebrow rose.

"I know!" Lark exclaimed. "I guess I was walking pretty quickly, because he came up alongside of me and asked me where I was going in such a hurry. I told him that I was going to pick up your books because you were put out of action for the time being and he nodded. He said that you did a great job and put in so much effort in yesterday's game. I agreed and told him that I was really proud of the way you played, and that Gryffindor was lucky to have such great players, especially you." Lark stopped and blushed.

"Well?" Ginny said expectantly.

"Then he said that you were lucky to have me as such a great friend." Lark smiled.

Ginny flashed Lark a big smile; partly because she was such a great friend, and partly because she and Seamus seemed to be getting along well.

Lark continued her narration. "That was pretty much it. We reached the common room together, and he said that he would 'see me around.'" When Lark finished she sighed.

"That's wonderful!" Ginny exclaimed. In a singsong tone she said, "I think he fancies you…"

"I wish," said Lark wistfully.

"Don't be silly," said Ginny. "You _are_ a great friend, you're very smart, and you're nice."

"If you say so," Lark answered. Hurriedly she continued, "I don't have low self-esteem or anything, it's only that Seamus is rumored to be snogging Parvati Patil all around school."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Ginny said simply, shrugging.

Lark gave Ginny a smile. "Thanks. As payment," she said, picking up the Potions book, "I'll explain the essay to you. The seventeen usages of Rhubarb Mushroom, where it may be found, and what the side affects are. First..."

Ginny smiled at Lark as her friend pored through the text. Thinking about Lark's friendship, her hopefully budding relationship with Seamus, and the dream that was still on her mind, Ginny thought distantly, 'This is one person who won't push me off a broom.'

"Wake up, sleepy one..." a distant voice said. There was a big, blurry shadow over Ginny. Rubbing her eyes, the shadow came into focus, Madam Pomfrey.

"Good morning, Ms. Weasley," she said. Ginny yawned and stretched her arms over her head with only the tiniest wince.

"You must be feeling a lot better to be able to do that," the medic said.

Ginny nodded emphatically. "Actually, I wanted to know if I would be able to take the bandages off and have a shower." Madam Pomfrey eyed her skeptically. "Please, Madam Pomfrey? I've been in this bed for ages without a decent wash. My hair is sweaty, and greasy, not to mention matted..."

"All right, fine," Pomfrey agreed. "I'll put another painless charm on you just in case." Ginny agreed. When Pomfrey was finished, she gave Ginny a towel, soap, a washcloth, and generic shampoo.

'It's better than nothing…' thought Ginny. When Ginny was in the bathroom, Madam Pomfrey called to her again. "I'm going to change the sheets, but I'll send an elf for some clothes and a pair of robes. They'll be on your bed along with breakfast."

"Thank you!" Ginny called back, brushing her teeth.

After Ginny finished her shower, she rolled her hair up into one of the towels Madam Pomfrey had given her and looked at the clothes on her bed; Muggle jeans and a green tee shirt with a black letter 'G' in the middle. Her mother had seen it in a shop on one of their few jaunts for Muggle clothing and had thought it cute. Taking the towel off of her semi-dry hair, Ginny shook her head and reveled in the feeling of having bandage-free, clean hair. Scratching her scalp a little, Ginny pulled the cover off of her breakfast tray and made a face.

"Lumpy porridge, more fruit and toast; the breakfast of champions."

Deciding that toast was the best thing for now, Ginny took a slice and started munching on it while poring through her Transfiguration text – _Transfiguration's Troubles, Trials, and Triumphs_ by Zsia Beacon.

When all the toast was gone, Ginny took out some parchment and a quill that Lark had brought and began to think about what she would write for the essay. So far they had covered transfiguring larger animals (like cats, medium-sized dogs, and rabbits) into objects like chairs, tables and flowerpots; and then back. The essay required them to research and state the characteristics that inanimate objects retained when transfigured from animals.

The text stated that animals with patterns, such as striped cats or Dalmatians, kept their prints when transfigured into objects. There would be tables with a Dalmatian's spots or chairs with orange spots. In cases like these, if the witch or wizard was not advanced enough to complete an error-free transfiguration, a concealing charm or other appearance altering charms would be needed as well.

Before actually starting the essay, Ginny wanted to jot down notes and then get them in order. She dipped her quill into her small inkwell and was poised to write when there was a knock at the door.

"Ginny?"

She looked up at the clock and frowned. Breakfast was over and students should already be heading to classes, if not already in them.

"Hello?" Ginny said. To her surprise, when the door opened, it revealed Professor Martin.

"Oh!" said Ginny with surprise. "Er, good morning!" She stood up slowly and looked at her messy bed, then tried to clear it off. "I'm sorry...there's not much room..."

"That's alright," said the Professor brightly. "Here's a chair." She sat in the chair next to the bed while Ginny remained standing awkwardly. "I'm the one who's intruding; go on and sit."

Ginny sat cross-legged on the bed.

"I know that it's unusual to knock on the door," began Professor Martin. "But I asked Madam Pomfrey if it was okay to visit you, and she said that it was. Only she asked me to knock first as you were taking a shower." Ginny nodded. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm here…" Ginny nodded slightly once more. "Well, for starters, I'm here about our sessions."

Ginny sat up straighter, intrigued. "Mr. Malfoy has been here once, has he not?" Ginny's eyes narrowed, not trusting her voice, she nodded again. "He must have told you that he came on my orders, and he was right. You see, when he told me that you would not be attending yesterday's session, I assumed that Madam Pomfrey was just fixing you up – he told me about the game. But then I realized that you wouldn't be coming at all when he told me about your injuries…" Professor Martin let her sentence hang in the air while Ginny thought.

"He told you about my injuries?" asked Ginny, looking at Professor Martin whose turn it was to nod. "But…" she said aloud.

'He didn't come to visit me after I got hurt in the game. No one knew the exact injuries until Lark, Colin, my brother and his friends told them,' she thought.

The professor smiled brightly at Ginny's apparent confusion. "You're wondering how he knew precisely about your injuries, aren't you?" Ginny nodded slowly. "As did I," she said. "You see, after Draco told me about your situation, I wanted to hear about the whole day up until he came to me. He told me about the game first, then about breakfast the next day, in which your brother and his friends were missing because they were with you. And then he finished with the first half of lunch before he came to meet with me. However, it didn't make sense to me that he knew about all of your injuries when supposedly he hadn't been to see you."

"He didn't!" Ginny protested. "I know that he didn't."

"I know that, Ms. Weasley," the professor said pacifying. "However, when I told him about my confusion, he eventually told me that on his way to our meeting room, he saw Madam Pomfrey on her way to most likely retrieve a potion, and he stopped her and asked her how you were doing." There was a pregnant pause.

"I...he didn't...he wouldn't..." said Ginny shaking her head; even more confused than before. Then she gasped and sat up straight.

"What is it, Ms. Weasley?" the professor asked.

Ginny looked like she was thinking very hard. "When...when he stopped by yesterday I heard Madam Pomfrey say 'Hello again, Mr. Malfoy.' But when he told me later on that he had gotten into a fight with my brother, I assumed that by 'again', she meant she had seen him twice because he got hurt in the fight. She must have meant when he stopped her in the hallway..." Ginny's voice tapered off.

"Precisely," said the professor, smiling.

"But...but that doesn't _mean_ anything!" said Ginny stubbornly. "Anyway, why are you telling me this?" she accused. "He might have been concerned, fine. All that proves is that he is only partly human. I already know everything else about his personality," she scoffed.

"_Do_ you?" the professor asked skeptically.

"Yes," Ginny rushed on. "I know that he's a vicious brute and that he's a Malfoy, which are really one in the same, once you think on it."

"Do you know his favorite ice-cream?"

Ginny shook her head and rolled her eyes. "But –"

"His favorite book?" she continued. "Color? Quidditch team?"

"That isn't important!" burst Ginny. "Why should I care?"

The professor smiled gently and got up to leave. "Draco Malfoy cared enough to ask about you, didn't he?"

After another minute, she rose, opened the door and let it click softly behind her, leaving an immensely frustrated, confused, and even slightly flattered Ginny Weasley.

* * *

For the rest of the day until lunch, Ginny felt thoroughly rattled. She had tried continuing her Transfiguration a few minutes after Professor Martin left, but eventually gave up on it due to lack of concentration. She had spent so much time worrying about where she would now stand with Draco that she did not even realize that he had come in the room.

When Ginny heard the door opening she was looking up at the ceiling. "You can just leave the tray on the bedside table, Madam Pomfrey. Thanks."

"People have called me Satan, a dog, crap that was under their shoe, you choose. But Madam Pomfrey's a new one," he drawled. Stunned, Ginny abruptly sat upright.

"I...I assumed that you were Madam Pomfrey bringing my lunch," she said.

"Naturally, you assumed wrong," said Draco.

"I think we've covered that," snapped Ginny, feeling more comfortable with being angry with him. Internally, she was satisfied at having proven Professor Martin wrong. 'His coming to visit me hasn't changed him at all,' she thought.

"I see that you're not chucking things at me or threatening to scream. Either Professor Martin has come to see you, or you've grown a few seeds of sense." He sat in the chair that almost everyone who visited sat in.

"Yes, Professor Martin saw me this morning," Ginny bit out. 'Be nice, Gin,' she told herself. 'We are in a place of healing not massacre.' "And she…told me that you had asked Madam Pomfrey how I was doing. I...er –"

Draco's head snapped up. "She told you that?" He asked sharply. "Well don't thank me," he said harshly, looking away. "It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. It doesn't matter that I did."

Ginny gaped at him. He was wrong on two counts. "Are you kidding me, Malfoy?" He looked back at her. "Nothing out of the ordinary? A Malfoy inquiring after a Weasley? That's front-page news! And secondly," she said, "it does matter. Merlin knows that I've spent the entire day so far thinking about it," she said angrily.

"It isn't my problem if you're so hot and bothered over something that means absolutely nothing. Make sure to add being high-strung to the long list of problems that you have," said Draco reclining in his seat, looking ruffled.

"_You're_ the one who is so infuriatingly uptight about everything, and you take the simplest things as written law," said Ginny.

"Is that so?" Draco said, sitting up.

"Yes. I have never once seen you crack a smile except to laugh at someone's expense. And Merlin forbid a crease deface your impeccable robes when you walk through the hall," said Ginny caustically.

"I simply know how to present myself. I'd rather not look as if I was just mauled by two bludgers before falling off my broom," said Draco icily.

"I can't believe I ever entertained the thought that you would actually care!" Ginny yelled angrily, although she was angrier with herself.

"You brought it up," said Draco, sounding a bit childish.

"Well then let's drop it and talk about something else!" said Ginny crossing her arms; Draco shrugged.

There was a prolonged silence in which Ginny sat back against her sheets, arms still crossed while Draco looked anywhere but at Ginny. One minute passed…Ginny felt eyes on her and looked at Draco, but he was looking at the plaster. Two minutes…there it was again! This time, she pretended not to notice him staring and waited until he was doing it for at least fifteen seconds, then she turned coolly and said, "Was there something you needed?"

Embarrassed at being caught but trying to hide it Draco glared and said, "Not from you."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "You were ogling my shirt. Do you have a problem with it?"

He sniffed. "It's Muggle wear," he said disdainfully.

Ginny glared. "I think I understood that when I bought it."

He looked at the 'G' in the middle. "Oh, I understand, just in case you forget your name?"

Ginny blushed, Fred and George had made a comment very similar to that; but there was a difference between Fred and George saying it and Draco Malfoy saying it. "Ginevra Weasley…I suppose your mother thought it was exotic?" He snorted.

"What if she did?! If you weren't stalking me, you wouldn't have heard it in the first place."

Draco laughed coldly. "Oh please don't flatter yourself. I wanted to see if 'Ginny' was actually your name – I'm not sure which I worse, now…To stalk you would mean that I would actually have to desire you in some way."

Ginny was seeing red. "How about we try not talking at all?" she managed to ground out.

"Would you like a glass of water?" said Draco looking for the entire world like he was actually having fun. "You're looking rather flushed."

"_Normal_ people think having fun means doing something other than pointing out a person's flaws, Malfoy," Ginny said looking at him angrily, unnerved that he was seriously enjoying taunting her. Draco began to look at Ginny in a serious way that made her uncomfortable, even though she refused to look away.

He scooted up closer to her bed. "Do they, Weasel?" he said in a low voice. "What kind of things do they do, hmm?" he said quietly. Ginny swallowed nervously.

"Things like…like…"

He was looking at her so intently.

"Let's just…talk about something else," said Ginny quietly, still looking at Draco's eyes head on. He rested his hand on the bed next to her hair, she swallowed harder.

"Only if the price is right," said Draco quietly. "What would you give me to drop the subject?" he began to smirk when she didn't answer. Ginny's rational side, far back in her brain said, 'Another punch in the face if you don't drop the subject', and she began to say exactly that.

"An…"

However, as soon as Draco saw her lips beginning to move he moved even closer and Ginny ceased speaking.

"What was that? You'd give me anything?" His arm was reaching over to her other side to touch the tips of her hair. Ginny was entranced; his last question registered in her brain, and her eyes nearly bugged out of the socket. 'Anything…?' It was just like her dream.

Half delirious with the spell he seemed to be weaving on her, Ginny said gently, "Please don't push me off of the broom."

Draco's fingers halted; the spell seemed to be broken. He snatched his hand back quickly, but looked at Ginny a little longer before pushing his chair back. He appeared as dazed as she felt.

"Brooms? You might want to check into St. Mungo's." He then turned and walked out of the door, although she noticed that he gave her a small look right before he went out of sight.

Ginny's eyes were still glued to the spot where he had just been, but unlike Draco, she had yet to compose herself.

"You might just be right, Draco."

* * *

That's it for this one. Please review!

-Femme


	8. Chapter Eight

Author's Note: This chapter takes place two days after the last one, so it's Friday. There is a longer note at the bottom because I wanted to just jump into the story. Here goes.

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine except for random ones and Professor Martin. Only the plot es mio.

_Analyze This_

"Aren't you _bored_?" Colin whined.

Ginny put her quill down and rubbed her eyes.

"No, actually, I'm having the time of my life. See, I figure that I'd better do a bunch of really long essays while I have the chance since I'm in counseling with a madman. Isn't that the way everyone spends their last days, Colin?"

Colin shifted on his side of Ginny's bed.

"Someone's grumpy."

Ginny only had so many sarcastic comments in her, so she settled for glaring at her companion. Sighing gustily, she picked up her quill once more and scribbled a few more lines on her Transfiguration essay. Looking over it one last time, Ginny blew over it gently to dry the ink and then rolled it up, taking care not to smudge it.

Then she thrust the parchment into Colin's hands.

"Finally finished! I've done Potions and this one; if there's anything else, bring it on." Colin was still and Ginny gave him a long look. "Well? Is there anything else?"

Colin grimaced and got up from his seat, mumbling about leaving his warm bed.

"It's hardly yours," said Ginny. "But if you want to trade places with me, I wouldn't mind…what is that?"

Colin heaved a large pile of papers onto the side of the bed that he had previously occupied.

"I'm 'bringing it on', Ginny. All of our _new_ essays and assignments." Colin plopped back on Ginny's bed, joggling her relentlessly.

Ginny turned her back on the blond boy who was once more grinning lazily.

"Don't you people have any sympathy for the afflicted?"

Colin opened one of his closed eyes and mumbled, "Yeah, that's why I'm here…spending precious moments of my time…" he yawned "with you." Winking, he closed his lid.

Ginny twisted around and shoved a pillow over Colin's face. "Yeah…mmhm, sure…taking naps on my bed…" She closed her eyes for a second. "I…I feel…"

"Uh kun breeve!" came the muffled voice from under the pillow.

Ginny stood up quickly with only the smallest of winces.

"Exactly! Like I can't _breathe_!" She turned around to face him. "I…I'm going stir crazy in this room. I can't remember the last time I saw a wall that wasn't smeared in white!"

Colin gave Ginny an anxious look; his hair unkempt from being smothered.

"You'll get out tomorrow, Ginny. I promise you."

"That's what you said yesterday," Ginny moaned loudly. "And last time I remember, Gryffindor House colors weren't white on white."

Colin got up and put his hands on the redhead's shoulders.

"Stop whining!" Colin said, complaining also. "Anyway, it's not _so_ bad in here; the white is kind of cheerful, in a very…sterile…clean way…"

An anguished moan sounded through the room from three rows away. "I'm _dying_!"

Colin looked very disturbed; Ginny rolled her eyes and pulled away from him. "Very cheerful," she said sarcastically.

A Ravenclaw first-year had broken his arm during his quidditch lesson the day before and had been very vocal about his situation since he arrived.

"Certainly sterile. Sort of reminds me of those photos we saw of a Muggle morgue."

Colin peered once more at the poor boy three rows away, "Yeah… 'cept everyone there was already dead…"

Another prolonged groan of agony.

Colin blinked nervously and pulled Ginny back over to her bed.

"D'you think we should be a bit quieter for the poor bloke? He sounds like he's had a rough night," whispered Colin.

"Life is pain!" Ginny snapped loudly. "We're in an infirmary, not a bleeding graveyard; if he wanted quiet he should've looked there."

There was silence from three rows away.

Colin gave Ginny a surprised look. "I'll remember that for you the next time someone hits a bludger through your head."

Ginny glanced away from him, contrite and Colin sat back on the pillow that Ginny hadn't used to kill him. While Ginny studiously looked away from him, Colin studied her appraisingly.

"See, _I_ though that you might've wanted to stay here for a few more days so that Malfoy couldn't get to you…but it sounds like he's getting to you just fine…"

Ginny gave Colin a shrewd look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Colin's eyebrow rose. "You tell me, Ms. Have-some-sympathy-for-the-afflicted. Since when are you the type to yell at a man when he's down?"

"He's not a man," Ginny grumbled. "He's an annoying little boy."

"He's in pain!" Colin exclaimed.

"I can think of worse!" Ginny protested. "Like…like a sick kneazle…or…or a crying puppy…or something…"

"He's as good as that!" said Colin.

"Hey!" sounded a sniffly voice from three rows away.

"Pipe down, puppy!" Ginny shouted, pulling the hangings shut around the bed that she and Colin were on.

"Ginny!" said Colin, sitting up. "What's wrong with you? This is more than a mild case of irritability." Ginny leaned away from him and refused to answer. "Fine, I'll leave so that Malfoy can come and you two won't be disturbed."

"I'm not going to beg you to stay," Ginny said stoically.

The blond sat up.

"Colin!"

The door to the Hospital Wing suddenly swung open noiselessly. Instead of the visitor bringing good cheer, he was greeted with a frown from Colin and a scowl from Ginny.

"Looks like someone got rewarded for his good bedside manners," said Draco smirking. "If you're finished, Weasley and I have things we need to do. Begone, urchin."

Colin glared at Draco and slid off the bed slowly. Before he was off completely, though, he leaned back so that he could speak to her without the other occupant of the room hearing him.

"Looks like my time's up. I'll see what I can do to get you out of here. No more yelling at the other poor souls in here." Ginny nodded quickly.

"If you're done whispering sweet nothings into the Weasel's ear, I'd like you to leave, Creevey."

Colin's fists balled up as he walked out of the door. "I'll leave when I please, Malfoy."

"Yeah, sure," said Draco, closing the door in Colin's face. He walked over to the chair which had become almost become _his_ chair in Ginny's room and sat down.

"There was no need to be rude," Ginny said, already angry. Draco hadn't even been in the room for ten minutes and already her blood pressure was rising. "But of course you never need a reason."

Draco waved his hand flippantly; he was obviously in his 'high-and-mighty' mood today. "I don't follow _your_ rules, Weasley." He shut his eyes.

Ginny was not pleased. "Why is everyone falling asleep when they are supposed to be keeping me company?" she muttered.

Draco sneered. "You've forgotten yourself. I am not here to enjoy myself, like Creevey. I am not here to keep you company. I am here against my will, so please refrain from informing me about your failed sexual attempts with your little friend."

With every word that Draco uttered, Ginny could feel her anger augmenting.

"Colin is my _friend_, you vapid waste of hair dye."

"Oh, I'm so terribly hurt, Carrot Top." He looked at Ginny and put a hurt face on. "Nothing stings like recycled insults."

"I could say the same, Malfoy."  
Draco frowned. "Aw, my comments on your love life not delivering their usual _thrust_?"

Ginny turned her nose up at him. "You're disgusting."

The blond only shrugged. "Don't knock me 'till you tried me."

Ginny laughed at that. "I think I've knocked you around plenty – ask your jaw about it if you've forgotten."

The icy glare that was sent Ginny's way almost made her want to recall what she had just said. Almost.

"Do you know what is so utterly sad about your life that frankly it's despicable, Weasley?"

Ginny gave him an even stare. "Go on, enlighten me."

Draco sat up and looked Ginny straight in the face.

"That hitting me was probably the best moment of your life. There will never be a higher point of your meaningless existence than the time that you hit me across the face. How terribly, terribly pitiful."

Draco faced Ginny until the effect of his words sink in.

"Now," he said when he was finished, "I'd like to return to my nap. Verbally sparring with you just takes _so_ much out of me."

"Yes," said Ginny furiously, "let's not let little Malfoy catch the vapors. How lucky that you've got such strong constitution."

But Draco said nothing more, and Ginny was forced to spend the rest of the afternoon alternately staring at the wall, glaring with frightening intensity at Draco, and hoping that the Ravenclaw three rows away would make a noise – any noise – so that she could have someone to take her ire out on.

That only led Ginny to feeling even more frustrated with Draco…and admittedly herself. Her unusual complaining with Colin was merely a tool to achieve what she wanted. It was a rather annoying tool, but very effective.

Ginny had been longing to leave the infirmary ever since she woke up, but she was normally not the type to whine about it. What was done was done; and as she wanted desperately to play Slytherin in the rematch and whoop them unmercifully, it was imperative (as Madam Pomfrey refused to let her forget) that she be cooperative. That included the whole deal: taking her stomach turning potions, getting enough sleep to make the dead restless, and not saying a word about it (lest Madam Pomfrey hear someone dispute her practices).

Then Draco came to 'visit'.

Adding all of his infuriating smugness that could never be diminished, with the factor that he was easily aroused to anger, made Ginny want to be as far away from him as possible. And all that Professor Martin would tell Ginny is to find out his favorite Florean Fortescue ice cream flavor. How useful would that be if Ginny was busy combating her need to hex him?

Then there was the whole broom incident…

It still gave Ginny shudders to think about it. That was why she continually found herself provoking his anger even more in the past two days, although she told herself that she wouldn't after the first counseling session. Knowing what she did about Draco Malfoy, Ginny reasoned that he would try and use that night against her in any way possible; and so to reassure him that she was not some simpering little girl, she had to continually piss him off.

'It's hard to appear intimidating if I'm smothered underneath thousands of blankets and leaking potions out of my arse…' Ginny reflected, frowning. She frowned even deeper at the imagery that her thought had produced.

Taking one last look at Draco, Ginny fell asleep, trying to keep one eye open on the odd chance that Draco tried to catch her unaware.

All her hard work at being as annoying as possible with Colin better have been productive, or that little boy was going to really understand the meaning of scapegoat.

"Ginny, my hand's turning purple…"

The redhead in question looked down at her friend's appendage.

"Oh, sorry, Lark." She gave the dark-haired girl an anxious smile and then watched as Madam Pomfrey continued to bustle around her bed. The matron was making nondescript noises like 'hmm' and 'alright then…' It was getting on Ginny's last nerve. Many things seemed to be doing that lately. All she needed was her freedom back. Oh, what she wouldn't give to be flying outside right now…

"So…what's the diagnosis?" asked Ginny tentatively.

No response except for three questionable beeps from Madam Pomfrey's wand.

"No flying on a broom until Sunday. No running, no heavy loads, no heavy breathing – if that happens, come to me right away."

Ginny nodded succinctly. "Does this mean –?"

"No staying up late, don't eat too much sugar – it could give you headache. If you get one, come to me right away, understand?" Ginny nodded and opened her mouth to speak. A thermometer was stuck in it. "Hmm…" said Madam Pomfrey.

Lark grinned and Ginny glared at her.

"Keep your mouth closed, Missy," piped the thermometer in a squealy whine that grated on Ginny's nerves.

Lark shook her head. "Magic never ceases to amaze me."

"You too, Miss," whined the thermometer.

Lark looked away from the object in question mumbling something about 'magical objects not being impervious to everything'. Seeing as Ginny was able to understand that much of what Lark, said, it was just as easy for Madam Pince to hear her.

"She's fit to go!" said the thermometer. "Just needs to make sure her temperature stay down."

Pince took the thermometer from Ginny's mouth, admonishing Lark at the same time.

"I'll have none of that, Ms. Piston. My objects are very valuable and hard to come by. Vandalism of any of them would be highly punished."

Lark gave as apologetic a look at Madam Pince as she could. "Sorry."

The matron nodded briskly. She then looked at Ginny and sighed. "I suppose that I'll have to let you go..."

"Yes!"

Madam Pince gave Ginny another stern look, also looking slightly alarmed at Ginny's obvious relief.

"But at the tiniest bit of discomfort, a headache, or anything like that, you must come to me right away." She then began to rattle off the list of potions that Ginny would need to come back later for.

Sobering up a little, Ginny helped Madam Pomfrey remove the remaining bandages from around her torso.

"Really, though," she said to the mediwitch, "Thank you."

The older woman nodded impatiently and pressed her hand to Ginny's forehead fretfully.

"It's all right; that's what I'm here for." She watched Ginny and Lark walk away. "Remember," she called, "at the slightest inkling of any pain…"

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," said Ginny, "I'll come straight to you."

 "Nervous much?" asked Lark once they were out in the hall, massaging her hand.

"Well, I didn't think that I was going to get to leave!" said Ginny defensively. Stopping and taking a deep breath so that Lark who was behind her almost ran into her back, Ginny threw her arms open. "Hogwarts! Dear Hogwarts, I thought you had forgotten me!" She was about to run down the hall when Lark grabbed the back of her shirt.

"It's not like we didn't try, Gin," she said, pulling the redhead beside her. "Remember, no running or anything like that. Or did you forget what that dragon Pomfrey said already?"

"She's not a dragon, Lark," said Ginny walking calmly. "And you _did_ threaten to break her thermometer."

Lark crossed her arms. "That thing was a nuisance. Only someone like Madam Pomfrey would train their equipment to chastise patients. _'No fun! You'll develop an ulcer!'_" she mocked. Ginny snorted. Sighing, Lark added, "I should've known not to say anything anyway. If ever I try to step 'out of line', I'm the type who always gets caught. No adventures for me."

"Yeah," said Ginny, looking at Lark earnestly, "because you really seem like the type to enjoy falling off a broom from dizzying heights."

Lark actually looked a bit scared of the idea.

"So where are we going anyway?" Ginny asked shifting topic. "Transfiguration or something?"

Lark looked amused.

"Are you that off schedule already?" Ginny shrugged. "It's almost time for dinner."

"_Dinner_?" Ginny said with surprise.

"Yup," said Lark nodding. "I came to see you on the break that I have after lunch because of Arithmancy." Ginny was disbelieving. "Check your watch if you don't think so."

Ginny shook her head. "My stuff's still back in the Infirmary; I believe you, though. I just can't see how the day's gone so quickly."

"Quickly?!" exclaimed Lark. "I thought it would never end! In my opinion we should already be in bed."

"Definitely not!" Ginny said fervently. "Any more bed rest and I'll go mad."

"It figures," said the dark haired girl. "All you've done is sleeping all day. When I came in to check on you, you were napping." Lark grinned. "I would have yelled at you to wake up and stop being lazy, but it seemed like you had been working pretty hard."

Ginny looked skeptical.

"Sure you were," said Lark. "You had your wand in your hand and everything. You must've fallen asleep doing Transfiguration homework or something."

Still chatting, the duo eventually reached the doors to the Great Hall and opened them up. Ambling over to their table, there was a massive uproar when they were noticed.

"GINNY!"

"The queen is back!"

"I thought she died and was buried in the Forbidden Forest…"

"She who is most high has been returned to her brethren!"

"Why didn't you tell me you were getting out?!"

"All hail Ginny, the Seeker of my heart!"

"Wanna go beat up some Slytherins?!"

Slightly dazed but appreciative of everyone who was welcoming her back, Ginny slipped into her niche beside Colin, Lark across from her.

"Did Seamus put Fire Whiskey in the pumpkin juice again?" Ginny inquired facing Colin.

The boy she just mentioned bounded up to her.

"Ginny, I'm ashamed that you would think such a thing."

"Whatever," she said grinning, watching as Lark tried to avoid seeming too interested.

"We're glad to have you back," he admitted. "It gives us an excuse to have a party in the common room tonight." He winked. Ginny laughed outright.

"Well, you have Lark to thank for breaking me out."

Seamus raised an interested eyebrow.

"Hey, hey, hey, what about me?" asked Colin, butting his was in. "It was me you went iffy on, like some kind of rabid house elf."

Seamus shrugged. "I don't think I'll want to thank you the same way I want to thank Lark." Colin and Ginny shared a laugh over Lark's bright red face. "See you at the party!" He practically hopped back into his seat.

"La-ark," sang Ginny.

"_What?_" said the blushing girl, looking up.

"Still want to help catch me up on the work?"

"Don't be silly, Ginny," said Lark. "You need your rest."

"And she'll get plenty of that at a wild party," said Colin.

Lark shrugged. "You said it, not me."

"_Why_ didn't you tell me first that you were getting out?" boomed a loud voice from further down.

Ginny put her face in her hands and prepared to be chastised.

"Hello, Ron, how is N.E.W.T. revision going?" she asked.

"Terribly," he shot at her. "Because I've been worrying over my sister who's been in the Hospital Wing for days."

Harry snorted.

"And Hermione's been a great consoler," he said.

"Never mind that," snapped Ron. "Push over," he said to Colin. "There's a mate." Ginny rolled her eyes as he sat down. "How're you feeling?"

"Absolutely, one-hundred percent fan_ta_bulous," said Ginny.

Ron frowned.

"Really, Ron, stop attacking her," ordered Hermione. "Can't you see she's joking?"

"An interrogation is necessary," Ron told Hermione. "Ginny's usually this whacked when she's _not_ sick; there's no other way to find out if her brains aren't rattled all over the place."

"I hardly think that Madam Pomfrey would have released Ginny had her 'brains been rattled', Ron."

"Well it's not like she's the most sensitive person…always shoving great chunks of chocolate down our throats…"

"My mistake," said Hermione with asperity, "I'd forgotten that you like to shove chocolate down your own mouth."

"Would you two stop bickering like five-year-olds for one minute?" said Harry despairingly. "You're driving all of us insane."

On the contrary, everyone looked quite amused.

"If there's one good thing about you being out, it's that I won't have to face _that_ alone," said Harry, gesturing to his best friends.

Ginny leaned forward and patted the bespectacled boy on the hand.

"I think that you've done a great deed putting up with this in my absence," she said gravely.

"If only my nerves could say the same," said Harry, waving as he walked back to his seat.

"Now look what you've done," Hermione said goading Ron. "You've annoyed Harry, Ginny, Lark, and Colin."

"And I'm sure that you had no part whatsoever in that, Hermione," said Ron, standing up. "I'll see you in the common room, Ginny. Don't over-exert yourself at the party." He followed Harry back to where they had been before, still bickering with Hermione along the way.

"God, those three can be such a handful sometimes," said Ginny, picking at her food. She was in no mood to eat after slurping down restorative potions all day.

"Hey, Ginny!" shouted Sebastian Chintz from a few seats away. "Way to take one for the team!"

"Thanks!" said Ginny, smiling at him.

For the remainder of dinner, each member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team made their way to Ginny to thank her for her sacrifice. Ginny was grateful that they acknowledged her and seemed to miss her; all the same she found herself understanding how Harry felt – on a much smaller scale of course. It was odd to be thanked for something unfortunate happening to her.

Ginny was still mulling over that when she decided to head up to the common room. Seamus had left at least half an hour earlier, and Lark, wanting to be a good friend had not complained that she wanted to leave dinner – it was obvious, anyway.

As Ginny lagged a little behind her friends, someone came up from behind her and slapped her on the back none too gently.

"If it isn't our new celebrity, Weasel Queen," said the simpering voice of Pansy Parkinson.

"Jealous much?" asked Ginny, grimacing inwardly from Pansy's 'tap'. "I don't mind giving you an autograph."

"Why would I want that rubbish?" said Pansy, smirking unbecomingly.

"Because Pansy," said Ginny benevolently, "I'm sure that if you sold it to the right person, you'd get enough money to buy a life."

"I've already got more money than you could ever dream about," retorted Pansy. "Your grubby little hands are just itching to have it, aren't they?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yes…yes…positively itching," said Ginny. She yawned widely. "Sorry, but I've got to go dream about stealing the money that you _scrimped_ and _scraped_ for."

"You go do that, Weasley!" Pansy said imperiously, not realizing that she had been moderately insulted and not taken seriously at all.

She returned to her Draco thinking about new insults that she could blast on Ginny the next day. Draco had seemed a bit pensive lately – at least more than usual – and Weasley bashing would cheer him up. If that didn't work, she could think of other ways…

And of course, being Pansy, she was very vocal to him about those other ways.

"Some other time, Pansy," said Draco with an air of great boredom. The strange thing, she reflected, was that he wasn't pretending to be bored. She hated it when he did that and was now able to detect when he was faking it.

"But Draco," she pouted looking far more attractive than she did when she was being nasty to Ginny, "you said that after the Quidditch match with Weasley. And I think that the other time is now…"

Putting a well-manicured hand on his chest, Pansy looked earnestly into Draco's gray eyes, hoping that somehow, her brown ones could enchant him into saying yes. And for a second, it seemed to work. Draco stared into Pansy's eyes for at least a full two minutes (she could hardly contain her excitement) and leaned down even closer. She could see his soft lips coming closer and closer to her own and she shut her eyes in eager expectation…and something came…only not what she wanted.

"Maybe. Another. Time, Pansy," he said, his face right next to her own. Sensing that Pansy might start wailing from his teasing – he knew that he was teasing her and relished in it – Draco continued. Taking her hand off of his chest he placed it in between his own hands. "See, I'm actually rather exhausted from meeting Weasley today."

Pansy's eyes flashed angrily. "Is that brat giving you a hard time, Draco?" she asked.

Draco smirked, forgetting for a second the image he was trying to portray. If Ginny was trying to give him a hard time, it was only because she wanted to give as much as she got from him.

"What do you think?" he asked instead. Pansy's eyes narrowed even more. "So, I think that it would be best for me to prolong our little encounter until I'm not feeling as stressed. I'd like to give you my full attention, and I can't do that with Weasley on my mind."

A slow smile slid along Pansy's lips. "I understand completely, Draco. And I can't wait." Giving him a small kiss on the cheek, Pansy hopped up and headed for her own common room. Halfway there when she was near the Gryffindor table, Draco saw her snapping at someone, though he didn't know why.

After another twenty minutes of watching Crabbe and Goyle play a rousing game of "who can eat more servings at dinner?"

Draco decided to head up himself. When he went past the Gryffindor table, he found out why Pansy had been so irked. The whole Gryffindor table was being unbelievably rowdy – more so than usual, which was completely disgusting. And as usual, Dumbledore had nothing to say about it. He found himself unable to even look at the wizened wizard for fear of sending a nasty curse his way. Lately, all of Draco's problems seemed to stem from one person – She-Who-He-Refused-To-Name.

He had only told Pansy half of the truth when she asked him about Ginny. He was actually feeling rather mellow after their meeting that day. Not that they had had any stimulating conversation after he verbally redressed her, but he had gotten a good nap out of the whole thing. If it got back to Professor Martin or Dumbledore that they often refused to speak to each other, he was half afraid that the old wizard would find some way to make him spend time with Ginny over the summer to finish their punishment.

The meeting after Ginny's broom comment (after which Draco found himself pounding his head against a wall for even coming that close to a Weasley) on Thursday was one of the most uncomfortable times that Draco had spent in his entire life. Neither one of them could even bring themselves to be malicious to the other; so the whole afternoon was spent with them sitting silently: Ginny in her bed and Draco in his chair. The only things that punctured the silence were Ginny's death glares. Ginny seemed to want to kill him by sheer force of her gaze; as if somehow he had forced her to want to…to…to what exactly, Draco didn't want to figure out. Draco could tell that Ginny was cursing herself for being enticed by him, and he was cursing himself for being the enticer…or whatever he was.

'At least today returned to some semblance of normality,' thought Draco, now far from the Great Hall.

Once more Ginny seemed absolutely infuriated by his sheer presence, and that was what he wanted. He remembered being completely thrown off by her comment on "everyone falling asleep when they should have been keeping her company". Did that mean that she _wanted_ his company? Well, one thing was sure; he assured himself with each step, he wasn't there to _comfort_ her. That was Creevey's job.

'And doing a damn good job of it,' Draco thought nastily.

Colin's ruffled hair and lounging on Ginny's bed was obvious evidence that he was doing more than giving her homework. And then the creepy little boy had the nerve to speak up to him; but doors are used for more than one purpose, Draco mused. They were perfect for shutting them in the faces of people like Colin Creevey.

In some ways he was glad that he had been so rude to Colin. It gave Ginny something to yell at him for. Now, Draco was certainly not being masochistic. It was something worse. He needed company. _Her_ company. Because he would be damned if he was going to waste another afternoon just sitting on a chair and not even have the pleasure of watching Ginny's face redden and screw up with anger when he said something offhanded.

The afternoon sort of dulled off from that point though, Draco remembered. After he had closed his eyes, Draco listened to hear what Ginny would do. But after a few moments of her rustling around, there was complete silence. When he had opened his eyes slightly, he saw an image that was still implanted in his mind. Ginny had pulled the covers right up to her chin, and on closer inspection, he saw a tiny bud that was the tip of her wand sticking out of it.

Not realizing that he was smiling, Draco delved deeper into the image. It was as if she expected him to attack her at any moment, so she wanted to be ready. As if he would do that. (It was so much more fun when the person was _aware_ of being attacked). Her hair had somehow managed to escape being trapped under the blankets, so it fell around her head in unruly waves. And her lips were pursed together tightly as if a hex was on the verge of bursting out at a moment's notice. He wondered what they would have said if they were relaxed, and not about to shout an insult his way. The kinds of things they might do…

The hand that wasn't clutching her wand was clutching the blanket for dear life. If they had been clutching his shirt instead, like they had so wanted to do two nights ago, how would it have felt…? Would it have been like that dream he had…?

And then he abruptly ended that train of thought.

He should not have come onto the Weasel like he had.

He should not have acted on a stupid dream.

He should not have had that dream in the first place.

He should not have to feel guilty for having one, lousy dream!

Draco groaned out loud from sheer frustration. One thing was certain.

He should have taken Pansy up on her offer.

The party was definitely in full swing.

Ginny was sure that if some of Gryffindor could swing off the ceiling, they would have.

The moment Ginny had stepped through the portrait, a great cheer rose; a huge crowd rushed forward and carried her over to a chair.

"Sit; relax yourself," had been her various orders, and she didn't mind complying. Any tiredness that she had felt vanished when she went to take her potions at the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey offered to let Ginny take them to her dormitory with her, but Ginny had declined. If she were given that responsibility, she would almost certainly have forgotten to comply.

Ginny banished those thoughts with another swig of butterbeer that Harry had nicked from the kitchens via Dobby and his elf comrades. The fizzy yet smooth drink was way too good, and the music blaring way to loud to think about medicines and bandages.

"Hey, Ginny! Get over here!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. One day Ron would learn manners; it was impossible that Hermione would let him loose on the world without training first. About to ask Lark if it was okay that she went over to talk to her brother and his friends for a second, Ginny decided against it. Lark was deep in conversation with Parvati. She was sure that it had something to do with Seamus, and cared to know about it, but being a little distracted only allowed her to pay attention halfway. Lark was frowning slightly, but she wasn't upset, so Ginny deemed it safe to leave the two of them.

Looking around for Colin in the madness, Ginny thought she might have seen the top of his blond head somewhere on the other side of the room chatting with a few other boys in their year.

"What's up?" Ginny asked Ron when she reached him.

He beckoned her to come closer with his hand. Harry was sitting across from him, and Hermione was sitting next to Ron on the floor with various papers spread all around her. A large foot stepped on one of them.

"You could watch where you're walking!" she shouted at the person's back. In the next minute a few drips of butterbeer splattered on them. Seeing the older girl about to spontaneously combust, Ginny looked nervously at Ron and wondered if she should intervene.

"Er, maybe this isn't the best time or place to be revising, Hermione," said Ginny cautiously.

Ron shook his head. "It's no good; she won't listen to a word Harry or I say."

"Well I told you to talk to Seamus and Dean about having a party tonight. There are more important things to do right now than…chugging down butterbeers and…and get down those stairs!" Hermione shouted at a sixth-year boy who was trying to escape upstairs to the girls' dorm. Harry and Ron sniggered at the very disappointed boy. Hermione huffed and turned her attentions back to Ron's sister. "Don't think that I'm not thrilled to have you back, Ginny – I really am. It's just that _I_ wanted the party moved to tomorrow night, because tomorrow's a Saturday and that's fine for having fun."

"Only you would allot a special time for fun," said Harry.

"There is a time for work and there is a time for play. _You_ two asked me to help you make a schedule for the N.E.W.T.s so that you wouldn't fall behind like you did fifth-year. And now you're slacking off. Don't ask me for help when you can't find time to revise for Potions," said Hermione calmly.

Ron glared at her. "Harry and I have allotted this time for Quidditch revision with Ginny. That's just as important."

The only response Ron received was a very loud snort from Hermione and the sound of her quill scraping the paper.

"Why don't we start the, er…Quidditch allotted…revision, then?" Ginny asked, looking at Harry.

He nodded and then gestured at the table in between himself and Ron. What Ginny had written off as a normal chess setting was actually much different.

Harry looked on with a pleased eye as Ginny admired the board.

"Like it?" he asked.

"It's great!" Ginny said honestly. "Did you get help from Fred and George?"

"Hem, hem," came a small voice by the floor.

Ron rolled his eyes and Ginny saw where she had picked the habit up.

"And Hermione too," he said.

Harry continued on. "Remember that nice little display Ron had in the beginning of the first Slytherin match?"

Ginny nodded. "How could I forget?"

"Right. See, after we came to visit you when you woke up, Ron and I were strategizing. The Slytherins really pulled a foul one on us, and we definitely don't want that to happen again."

Ron picked up the ball. "So Harry sent an owl to the twins asking how they had sort of programmed the figurines to act the way they did. And what they had done was enchant the snaky things to have all the nasty characteristics that Slytherins have, and the griffin all the ones that we've got. Fred and George made the griffin snuff the serpent, but it was also partially instinctual…see the whole thing is rather complicated…"

"It's not that hard," Hermione interjected. "Fred and George created synthetic knowledge using this really nice charm – I actually didn't know that they had that kind of magical discipline. I mean I figured that must have because of all the stunts they pulled –" Ron coughed. "_Anyway_ they taught me the spell because they couldn't give up anymore of the griffins or serpents as they needed it for stock – their sales went higher after the Slytherin match. They gave us the 'shells' of the figurines, but I had to enchant them. Ron helped make some of figurines actually…his are the ones that look like green worms." Ron glared at her.

"Because I had this idea," Harry put in, "that if we made smaller versions of those things and put them on a chess board – also programming them with the knowledge that normal wizard chess pieces have ("Normal!" scoffed Hermione) – they wouldn't just go for attacking each other, they would play out a game."

"And so you could see the kind of strategizing that Slytherins use in a game!" This was from Ginny. "That's brilliant Harry!"

He blushed; he was never one to take compliments well, Ginny thought with a mental sigh.

"Er…thanks. So, you see, we have decided to impart some of the knowledge we've derived from this with you."

"Welcome back to the fold," said Ron gravely.

Hermione rolled her eyes. It seemed like she caught it from Ron as well.

The next two hours were spent strategizing with the 'Quidditch Twins' (Ginny dubbed Harry and Ron that as they were Quidditch fanatics and were also diabolical) with various butterbeer and snack breaks. Even Hermione decided to join in after awhile, and helped construct a couple of plays. Ginny thought that she saw Lark dance a couple songs with Seamus and Colin snapping away at them with his camera. She caught his eye across the room and he smiled shamelessly. Lots of people were going to be blackmailed after this…

Ginny cracked up when she saw a blown up picture of the Quidditch team hanging over the fireplace.

In the picture, Harry was proudly holding up a snitch that won the Cup in his sixth-year. The odd thing was that instead of Harry's unruly black hair and crooked grin, Ginny was smiling. Someone had placed her face over Harry. The heading over it said: Ginny Weasley, Gryffindor Seeker. Ron slapped Ginny/Harry on the back in the picture, and Ginny watched as she saw herself suddenly drop to the ground. She was extremely disturbed until she saw her picture self's hand pop up in the air, holding the snitch, a thumb's up on the other hand.

"_Compliments_ of Fred and George," Hermione said exasperatedly, seeing where Ginny was looking.

"You're the only one that doesn't like it, Hermione," said Ron complacently.

"It's disturbing!" Hermione insisted. "Don't you think so, Ginny?"

Ginny gave Ron an amused look. "I was kind of concerned for a moment there when I just toppled to the ground like that."

"Your mother thought so, too," said Hermione. "That's why the twins sent it here. She forbade it at the Burrow when Fred and George tried to hang it up there."

Ron's mouth was open. "How do you _know_ all of this?" he asked.

Hermione sat up a little straighter. "She sent me a letter informing me not to let it hang up, even if you begged."

"Then why's it still up there?" Harry asked over Ron's shouts of, "It's a conspiracy!"

Ron simply stared at her.

She looked rather uncomfortable all of a sudden and kept darting her eyes to and from Ron.

"Well… well Ron kept _begging_; saying that I was going to spoil your party, Ginny. And since he kept insisting I figured that it could stay up for just tonight."

"So you did it because Ron asked you to, right Hermione?" pressed Harry with a smug look on his face.

"I _did_ it for Ginny," she said.

"I thought you said it would disturb her," said Ron, not understanding at all.

"Well it hasn't!" snapped Hermione. She went off to get a butterbeer, shooting a pointed look at Harry as she left.

"I'll never understand that woman," said Ron sitting back. "She makes no sense at all. Not ever."

Harry shrugged. "I'm not so sure about that, Ron. Maybe it's you who doesn't understand."

"What are you going on about?" asked Ron defensively.

Ginny sniggered. "We're saying that it's your _animal magnetism_ that's got Hermione all-of-a-dither," she teased, putting on her mother's voice.

Ron's ears went red.

"You two've gone mad. That's just…just sick! Hermione's not affected by any animal's…magnetism…" he stammered.

"I'm not so sure about that," said Ginny evasively.

"Yeah," said Harry, "I hear that species _Ronsadaftprat_ is rather persuasive when it wants to be…"

Ginny and Harry shot extremely amused looks at each other when they saw Ron trying to work out what Harry said. His entire face was red by then and he jumped up looking very agitated.

"You two've got issues! You're beyond any redemption!" And with that he stalked off, presumably to find Hermione.

Harry and Ginny fell apart completely when Ron walked away.

They couldn't look at each other without almost passing out from the hilarity of the situation.  It was made even worse when Lark came around with Colin offering some sweets.

"Sour-Face Gummy worms, anyone?"

Harry and Ginny took one look at the chess board and fell out of their chairs.

Lark was bewildered.

"Maybe you should take her up to bed…" Colin suggested.

Lark nodded. That seemed like a good idea.

A bit of an odd note to end it on, but I kind of liked it there. Anyway, my apology shall commence one line below.

Author's Notes: I decided to give a response to everyone who reviewed chapter seven because I really owe a huge thank you to everyone for not flaming me mercilessly. Erg. Not posting for as long as I did was terrible, and I won't even give any lame explanations, I'll just say that it won't go that long ever, _ever_ again. At first, I had terrible writer's block, and didn't write anything. So I wrote a bunch of one-shots and posted those instead. Then I said, hey, I should get my other chapter fic up to speed, so I sort of abandoned it for this one. Once I got up to chapter seven in the other one, I vowed to come back to this story. And it's taken me a very long while, (I also battled against my sheer laziness), but I've finally got another chapter up. Sincerely, honestly, from the bottom of my delinquent heart, I'm very sorry, and I hope you guys aren't too angry with me. Saying that here are the responses:

**KawaiiRyu** I haven't given up. Partly because of your encouragement. I think that this has been the hugest case of writer's block (mixed with general laziness) I've ever had in my entire life. And I was wondering if it was worth it to continue, so thanks for your review. It made me wake up and realize that I was being stupid. I hope you like this chapter. **Morgain Lestrage** I'm glad you liked it. Sorry it took so long. **jave56** Thanks! **Kitti Malfoy** Not as soon as you or I would have liked, but its here! **shelly2** I'd also like to say thanks to you for your encouragement and reviewing. I hope this chapter was okay. **Lee** Wow thanks, sorry for the slow update. I'm glad you like the story! **infiltrate the enemy fat kid** Love your name. Sorry about Ginny seeming weak, but admittedly, I thought that it would be more realistic for her to feel at least a little scared rather than her being like, "I was almost killed, but to hell with that, I don't care!" Anyway, sorry this has taken so long. Hope you like it. **DRUIDGIRL** Thanks. I think that's part of the reason I haven't updated this story in so long. I didn't want to post anything if it was utter crap, so hopefully the level of crappiness is low. I like your name. **Beauty Eclipsed** I think Ginny changes a bit in this one too. Thanks for reviewing. **kneh 13** I thought that while I was writing it! You cracked me up when I read your review. **AnOnYmOuS­pErSoN** Thanks a lot! The whole shirt thing though isn't supposed to be related to anything in the (canon) books; I made it up for the story. I can see, though, how it might have been confusing. Sorry about that. But thanks for reviewing. **Pudding Speck** Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying it. **Bitter Angel** Thanks; sorry about the wait. I really like your name. I think I should make that a general heading for these responses; everyone's names are really original. **Princess Punky** Thanks! **Scarlett8** Thank you! I love your name; it's the same as one of my best friends', and I've always loved it because of the whole double T thing. Really random, but yeah. Thanks for reviewing! **Rockelle** Thank you so much. I'm so sorry it's taken so long. I hope you like this one. **Mare Tranquillitatis** You're a very, very good speculator as you can see from this chapter. It's not going to play a huge deal, I don't think, but you were right. Thanks for reviewing. **artemis moonshine** I absolutely love your name. Your review made me laugh, sorry it's taken so long. **WiDz** Thanks! **Trinitytzen** Thank you so much, I hope that you haven't lost too much sleep. **Isadora** Thanks so much! **cassie** Sorry there were only 7, but hey, this makes 8!

And I think that makes everyone! Phew, that took awhile, but it was kinda fun, and I figure that I owe you guys at least that much. So sorry again for the delay. The next one will definitely not take as long as this one or you can put threats in your reviews. But please review! It's very motivating!

Femme__


	9. Chapter Nine

Author's Note: Professor Martin makes another appearance in the fic again. I need to tell you how actually annoying it was to put her in, because I kept calling her Professor Packard – but that's from my other story. Anyway, here goes.

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine except for random ones and Professor Martin. I only have dibs on the plot.

_Analyze This Ch.9_: Don't Kill the Messenger

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The next day at breakfast, Harry and Ginny could barely look at each other without falling to pieces.

It was a Saturday, and customarily Colin was a very late sleeper. Lark had gone back down to the party after making sure that Ginny was safely in her bed. She insisted that Ginny "wasn't well" and needed help; so after tucking the redhead in and wishing her goodnight, she went back down into the lion's den. Lark was planning on having a late breakfast so that she could get some extra sleep: supposedly she was going on an unofficial date with Seamus to the Hogsmeade visit that day.

Half surprised that Seamus was such a fast operator, but completely supportive of her friend, Ginny agreed to stop in at the Three Broomsticks for a bit to see how she was faring.

Ginny instead, would spend the day with Colin, Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry and Ginny planned on ditching the other two members of the trio as much as possible to ensure that they spent some time alone. This plan was devised in the common room early that morning when Ginny came downstairs and saw Harry waiting impatiently for Ron. When Colin came down not long after, Ginny inquired as to whether Colin wanted in or not. After assenting, Colin declared that he would try and pick up some incriminating photos of the two clueless people together in hopes that they made a connection. He had plans of doing a little Christmas shopping, but figured that he could fit a little voyeurism in between.

Roles thus established Ginny, Colin and Harry headed for breakfast in a very good mood. There weren't many other people eating breakfast yet: the largest was a clump of people at Slytherin, but Ginny couldn't see who it was as Crabbe and Goyle blocked her view; a few people she knew from Ravenclaw; and only two Hufflepuffs chattering nonstop.

Ron and Hermione came into the room, speaking to each other like normal people for once, and sat down on either side of Harry.

Spying the gleeful looks on the faces of the three people around them, Ron began to ask, "Why are you all so –"

At that point, Lark came bounding into the Great Hall with a joyful – if not slightly nervous – smile on her face; she sat on Ginny's other side.

"I guess it's something in the water," Ron mumbled.

"So," said Hermione picking up a piece of toast, "What are everyone's plans for today?"

"I'm going to The Three Broomsticks," Lark piped up. Ginny smiled ruthlessly at her friend and was rewarded with a blush.

"Christmas shopping and just hanging around," said Colin.

"Me too," said Ginny. "And I might tag-a-long with Harry for a little bit to hear a few more strategies." Ginny and Harry shared a devious look.

"Same for me, then," said Ron swallowing egg. "I need to make sure that you take it easy, Ginny." The recipient of her brother's caring words rolled her eyes.

"Mmm, heads up," said Colin as a few owls flew in.

Peering outside where the swooping silhouettes of the birds were, Ginny thought that she saw a familiar ball of fluff darting frantically toward their table.

"Did you send some post out?" Ginny asked Ron. "I think I see Pig coming back with something."

For a reason unknown to Ginny, Ron's ears turned a telltale pink. "Not that I know of…I mean, not to anyone interesting…maybe Mum's sent us a care package…?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes at her brother. "You know that Mum hardly ever sends us care packages; especially not when the holidays are coming up so soon."

"I dunno…" said Ron looking a little sick when he saw something red in what was certainly Pig's beak. "I've forgotten something upstairs…I'll be back."

"_No_," Ginny told him, still suspicious. "Why don't you wait here and see what Pigwidgeon's got, eh?"

Ron shifted in his seat a bit as if he were on the verge of bolting. "Ah…alright then."

But when the bird came closer Ron paled a little more, and Ginny saw why.

"A _Howler_?" she said unbelievingly. "What did you do, Ron?"

Harry also looked curious. "Have you been hiding something from us?"

Hermione looked anxious. "If your mother's found out about me hanging up the poster I'm really sorry, Ron. You can tell her it was all my fault."

But Ron said something else. "Look, Ginny, I didn't know that –"

"What d'you mean Ginny?" asked the redhead. "I didn't –" Pig came swooping down to their table and landed in Ginny's porridge. "What the –"

Pig had spent so much time doing spins and loop-de-loops in the air that Ginny had next to no time to run out of the Great Hall and open it in private. Ginny's face was mortified as the red envelope exploded open and began shouting her mother's voice:

"GINNY WEASLEY, YOU ARE IN TROUBLE, YOUNG WOMAN!!! AND I DON'T MEAN FROM ROGUE BLUDGERS OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT, I MEAN WITH _ME_!! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW _FRIGHTENED_ YOUR FATHER AND I WERE WHEN WE RECEIVED A LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE TELLING US THAT YOU WERE LAYING _UNCONSCIOUS_ IN THE HOSPTAL WING. AND ALL THIS WEEK WE'VE WAITED ANXIOUSLY FOR A LETTER FROM YOU, A NOTE, A LOCK OF YOUR HAIR, _SOMETHING_ TO SIGNAL THAT YOU'RE ALRIGHT. I ALMOST CAME UP TO HOGWARTS MYSELF!! MERLIN KNOWS THAT YOU COULD'VE BEEN STILL LYING ON THAT DREADFUL QUIDDITCH PITCH, _BLEEDING_ EVERY WHICH WAY FROM HOW RON DESCRIBED IT!! YET STILL NO LETTER!!

NOT EVEN WHEN WE WERE TOLD THAT YOU WOULD BE SPENDING TIME WITH THAT DRACO MALFOY!!! WELL YOU HAD BETTER BE MINDING YOUR P'S AND Q'S AROUND HIM GINEVRA WEASLEY, BECAUSE IF I HEAR THAT YOU'VE BEEN MISBEHAVING ALONG WITH DIVING OFF BROOMS, I JUST WON'T KNOW WHAT TO _DO_ WITH YOU!"

Ginny dared not breathe. At least it was over.

"AND DON'T THINK THAT I'M FINISHED, BECAUSE I'M NOT!! THANK _GOD_ THAT YOUR BROTHER HAD ENOUGH SENSE TO OWL ME LAST NIGHT AND TELL ME THAT YOU WERE ACTING STRANGELY!! NOW IF ANYTHING IS BOTHERING YOU, I DEMAND THAT YOU MARCH YOUR WAY RIGHT TO MADAM POMFREY AND INFORM HER OF THOSE ISSUES. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? I DON'T KNOW _WHAT_ YOU WOULD DO WITHOUT YOUR BROTHER!! YOU SHOULD _THANK_ HIM FOR CARING ABOUT YOU ENOUGH TO REPORT TO ME WHENEVER THERE'S BEEN A PROBLEM. I'D SWEAR SOMETIMES THAT YOU WERE TRYING TO KEEP THINGS FROM ME, GINNY, AND I WON'T HAVE IT!!!! I AM YOUR MOTHER AND I CARE ABOUT YOU.

MAKE SURE YOU TAKE _ALL_ OF YOUR POTIONS ON TIME AND GET PLENTY OF REST!!! MAKE SURE THAT HARRY IS EATING HIS VEGETABLES AND THAT HERMIONE ISN'T WORKING TOO HARD. GIVE COLIN AND LARK A HUG FOR ME!

AND WRITE ME A LETTER WITHIN THE NEXT THREE DAYS OR NO PRESENTS THIS YEAR!!"

As Ginny sat frozen, afraid to move, she saw an all too familiar figure walking out of the Great Hall, jeering and howling derisively as he left. A new horror fit its way into the pit of Ginny's stomach. She would never hear the end of it from Draco in her sessions! If she had been angry before, it was nothing compared to how she felt now.

The Howler burst into spectacular flames and began to shrivel up. As if some other person had inhabited her body, Ginny looked at the burning envelope and with eyes as narrow as shards of ice Banished it onto Ron's robes with her wand.

Any Slytherins that hadn't been laughing uproariously now had tears streaming down their faces at the sight of Ron Weasley jumping and dancing around as if he had ants in his pants.

"Take it off! What the – it's going to burn me alive!"

"Oh, shut up, Ron," Hermione authorized. "It'll go away." And within the next minute the flames extinguished themselves, leaving only a faint trace of smoke.

Ron turned on his sister angrily. "Have you gone mental?! What on earth was that for?!"

Ginny looked daggers at Ron. "Because _you_ are a _flaming idiot!_ You are a moron of the grandest kind, you _stupid_ _prat_!" Her voice which had been close to a whisper rose with every word.

Ron gasped. "I…I don't think I've ever been so insulted in my life!"

"That's because people have been holding back!" Ginny shouted leaning forward. With her forefinger and thumb she picked Pig out of the porridge and flung him at Ron who was forced to juggle in order to catch the poor bird.

"Take your stupid rat with wings, you sellout!" she hollered. Pig hooted sullenly.

"_Sellout_?" Ron repeated. "How am I one of those?"

Ginny laughed bitingly in his face, about to tear him down with her words, but Colin pulled her down.

Harry ran his hand through his hair as he did when he was feeling awkward. "Well, you could have warned her, Ron."

"Don't speak to him, Harry," Ginny spat, "You might catch his stupid."

"That's uncalled for!" said Ron angrily.

"You told me that it was no one special," whispered Ginny in a dangerously low voice.

"Well, it was…it was just Mum, I didn't think anything of it…"

"Liar! You were trying to run away!"

"No!" he cried defensively. "I forgot something upstairs."

Ginny put her finger on her chin in a speculative look. "What could that have been, hmm? Your brain? Maybe your balls, Ron. Because you had to have lost those to pull a stunt like that without telling me first, and then trying to escape later."

Ron put his hand to his chest. "_Ginny_! Why are you so upset? I only did it because…"

"For revenge, Ron!" Ginny declared. "You didn't like what Harry and I said to you last night, did you? So what are you going to do to him, hmm? Going to steal away his glasses tonight so that he'll walk into walls?"

Hermione couldn't help but cover her mouth with a hand as a smile broke out into her face.

"I'm not _that_ blind…" Harry murmured dryly.

"Don't talk to him, Harry!" Ginny shrieked. Her eyes were gleaming so brightly and her face so red that Colin half wondered if Ginny hadn't swallowed the Howler. The redhead stood up. "No one talk to him! Not a soul! Let him stay by himself in the corner like the little boy he is! Shunned from the world forever." She looked at Ron. "Isn't that what you prefer, Percy?"

Ron sucked air in so fast that he made a croaking noise. He searched for words to say, but found that he was quite speechless.

Ginny nodded slowly. "Better, much better. That's how I've always liked you." With that she stood away from the bench and stormed off.

"We should follow her," Lark said to Colin, looking around. It was as if Ginny had left the remnants of a battlefield behind her.

Harry was the soldier who had seen too much but survived, Ron was the shell-shocked soldier, and Hermione – oddly enough – played the role of a reporter; it was obvious that she desperately wanted to know what Ginny and Harry had said to Ron the night before.

Colin looked sad. "But I wanted to finish this bit of egg here," he said. "For some reason it always tastes better on Saturdays…"

Lark growled and rolled her eyes. Grabbing Colin by his collar she yanked him up. "Do you really want to unleash Ginny on the world in the state she's in?"

The blond shook his head.

"Alright, alright."

They left the older trio sitting at the table, Ginny's porridge still leaking all over the table.

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"Ginny! Ginny, where are you going?" Colin called after her. He and Lark didn't have very far to run as Ginny had only left the room and stood in the middle of the hallway. Screwing her brown eyes shut and balling up her fists, Ginny gave a loud, frustrated scream that made a few people coming down the main staircase stop and stare.

 Taking a few steadying breaths, Ginny then turned to face her friends.

"I feel better now," she said.

"Do you really?" asked Lark.

Ginny made a face. "Actually no, but I have to pretend I do, or else I'll go inside and kill my brother." She thought for a moment. "But I've got plenty more, so why not?"

Colin walked up to his friend grinning. "Because then your mother would _really_ send a Howler."

Ginny closed her eyes again. "_Why_ does Ron always have to go blabbering off at the mouth? Do you know how embarrassing that was?"

"I don't think that I want to imagine," Colin said not so sympathetically.

"Well, there weren't really all that many people there yet," Lark pointed out.

"But I'm sure that people heard it from _miles_ away," said Colin, risking bodily harm. Ginny gave him a chilly look. "My point is, Ginny, that the damage is done. If you show people that you're hurt, they're going to eat you alive."

Ginny grumbled intelligibly. Lark smiled at her friend and then peeked at her watch.

"Oh! Sorry, Gin, but I've got to go; I'm going to be late if I don't get a carriage now."

Ginny nodded. "Of course. I'll see you there, yeah?" Lark nodded and then with a wave and a hopeful smile went through the large oak doors out of the main entrance.

"Should we head out as well?" asked Colin.

"Sure," Ginny said. She began to walk out with Colin and then stopped. "Oh, I forgot to pick up my watch from Pomfrey yesterday. Would you mind waiting here for a second while I get it? It drives me mad not knowing the time."

Colin smirked. "Why not, dear? I know how you so love to be in control."

Ginny's lips turned upward audaciously. "And don't you forget it, love." Ginny flipped her hair and heard Colin laugh behind her as she walked quickly to the hospital wing.

She wasn't even sure anymore if she wanted to help Ron's situation with Hermione. Any altruism that she felt toward her brother dissipated like a puddle hit by dragon fire. What she hadn't wanted to admit to Colin and Lark was that Draco Malfoy witnessing the whole episode made it worse for her. When he walked out of the Great Hall almost dying of laughter, not saying anything though, Ginny knew was an indication of the verbal lashing he was planning for sometime in the future. And it was all stupid Ron's fault.

Ginny knocked on Madam Pomfrey's door and heard the matron summon her from within.

"Hello," Ginny said cordially on entering. "I think I left my watch lying around somewhere. Do you mind if I look for it?"

"No, but don't be too long; there are other patients that are resting."

Ginny nodded and walked near where her bed had been. Madam Pomfrey was advising her on hospital wing etiquette as if she hadn't been there just the day before. Ginny peeked around the bed to see if she had dropped it on the floor or anything. After at least five minutes of searching, though, it was nowhere to be found.

'Where could I have put it?' Ginny thought. After about two minutes more searching, she could practically hear Colin sighing with impatience from the entrance corridor and decided to give up. Maybe it was hidden somewhere in the bundle of clothes that she had dragged up last night. With one last glance at the now upturned bed and crooked bedside table, Ginny left.

Turning around so that she faced the door, Ginny made sure that it closed with only the smallest of clicks. Who know what Madam Pomfrey would do if some poor patient's rest were disturbed?

"Good show, Weasel."

Spinning around quickly, Ginny pulled out her wand. She exhaled angrily.

"Real mature, Malfoy."

His eyes gleamed with mal-humor. "You can put your little stick down, now; it's just me."

Ginny gave him a look that plainly said, 'Are you kidding me?' and kept her wand right where it was.

"Why? I find that I like looking at you better when it's at wandpoint."

He shook his head. "Whatever. We've been summoned, let's go."

Ginny snorted. "By whom? I'm not going anywhere with you; I've already got plans."

"As if I didn't?" But Ginny remained silent. He sighed dramatically. "Would you go with me if I promised to give you _this_?"

He held up a simple brown watch with a leather strap. The face had a silver background and the numbers were a ruby red. It would have meant nothing to Ginny – if it hadn't been precisely the watch that she had been looking for.

"Give that back now," authorized Ginny.

Draco smirked. "Come with me first and you'll get the watch afterward."

"At the risk of sounding like Pansy, I'll venture to say, 'As if', you annoying little rat. Now fork it over."

The blond shrugged and pocketed the watch. "I've told you what you have to do to get it." He and Ginny engaged in a silent glaring war for a full minute. "You want it badly, don't you? I can just hear it ticking away in my little pocket. Useful little thing, despite it's tatty appearance, eh, Weasley?"

"It's –"

"The best Daddy could afford, right?" He frowned in mock sadness. "I know you'd hate to part with it, and so if you'll come with me calmly I promise to give it back before it disintegrates in the next five minutes." Ginny's fists bunched up with barely suppressed fury. "See, that's the problem with cheap leather, Red," he said derisively, "It's here one minute and rotting the next. All those sickles right down the drain."

"Aargh! Fine!" Ginny shouted, giving in. "Only to shut your foul little mouth up."

Draco pouted. "What – this old thing?" he said. Then he turned and walked down the hall. "Kiss, kiss, Weasel."

Ginny flushed with anger and stalked after him, longing to chuck something at the back of his head.

"Planning on telling me where we're going yet?" she said after some minutes had passed.

Draco took the watch out of his pocket and began throwing it up into the air and catching it. "If you can't tell by now, you don't deserve to know."

Ginny pulled her wand out again and prepared to Summon the watch to her.

Without turning around though, Draco said, "Uh, uh, uh."

"Do you even realize how much you infuriate me?" Ginny asked absently, but there was no answer. She could bet that he was smirking his stupid little face off. "At least tell me where you got my watch from."

"The Infirmary," he said simply. "I checked to see if you were there. You weren't. I saw your watch. I saw an optimal chance for bribery. I picked it up, and here we are."

"I'll have to ask Madam Pomfrey to up the security in there. Seems to me she's letting all kinds of rubbish waltz in."

Draco nodded thoughtfully. "I know. I told her to ban all Weasley's, but she was rather lax today." He glanced back at Ginny. "Seems like I didn't pay her enough."

Ginny snorted. "Let me give you a word of advice: when you pay people off, wash the blood from those you stole it from."

Just then she recognized the direction that they were going in.

She stopped. "Why are you taking me here?" she demanded.

"I'm not taking you anywhere. We were told to come here," Draco said exasperatedly. "I received an owl –"

"I bet you did," said Ginny sarcastically.

"He's telling the truth," said another voice. Ginny looked up and colored a little at the image of Professor Martin smiling at her. "Long time no see, Ms. Weasley." She looked at the two of them. "And I see nothing has changed."

Draco looked at Ginny as if she smelled of an open rubbish bin on a hot summer's day. "This world is based on magic not miracles."

"Professor, I've left a friend of mine waiting in the entrance hall – today's a Hogsmeade visit – and he's probably been standing there for at least twenty minutes now," she finished, going to look at her watch. She remembered at the same time as Draco did that he had it in his pocket. "So, sorry to be rude but I don't have time to waste suffocating in Malfoy's stupidity."

"That's right, Weasley; you've already wasted eight of your lives trying to survive in that cesspool you call a home."

"Better my 'cesspool' than your mausoleum cum cemetery. Tell me, Malfoy, was that why your dear mummy was so very grumpy at the last Quidditch World Cup? Not used to the sun?"

"Listen, you two –" Professor Martin tried to intervene.

"Sorry if I upset you by comparing to a cat, Weasley. Tell me how many lives a bitch has and then we'll go from there."

"That'll be easy!" said Ginny heatedly. "How old is your mum?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "You –"

"Stop it; the both of you!" Professor Packard's pretty face was stern with anger. "Come into my room, this won't take that long." She went inside.

Ginny glared at Draco and went inside the room quickly, pushing by him slightly, and stood by the door.

Martin was inside sitting behind her desk. "You can make yourselves comfortable if you like."

Ginny shook her head. "It's alright; I've really got to be going soon."

The professor shrugged and then after a second gave a strained smile. "First things first: congratulations on getting out of the infirmary."

"I know; I didn't think she had the mental capacity either," Draco said spitefully.

Ginny ignored him. "Thank you. It feels good to be out."

Martin's eyes flicked to Draco and then back. "And I understand that Mr. Malfoy has been visiting you pretty much everyday, right?"

Ginny nodded again with a slightly twisted smile on her face. "That's right! He made it very clear that you told him to." When Professor Martin frowned, and Ginny realized that she might have been a little overly hostile toward the older woman. It was difficult not to, though, as the redhead felt that Martin hardly understood her – valiantly though she might try.

There was a small silence. Then Martin said, "Well, now that all of that is out of the way, we can come to the issues that I wanted to see you about. Obviously the schedule has been a bit of a joke; I had wanted you to meet about two times a week, but after your accident Ginny, I thought it would be nice for Draco to see you frequently. Now that you're out, though, we can return to a normal schedule. How do Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays sound to you two?"

Draco laughed in a low voice. "That's three days a week, not two."

Martin smiled back. "One more day to spend in each other's company."

"One day too many," Ginny blurted out. "I mean, if…if you really wanted us to bond or something, you shouldn't try and force it upon us." Draco looked at Ginny calculatingly.

"I have to agree," he said grudgingly. "Contemplating suicide three times a week really takes time off my exam revision."

The professor only looked at them with a sharp eye. "I tried seeing if any improvements would be made with your civility by having Draco visit you everyday. And you can try to pretend like some headway has been made, but I can tell that none has – I'm good at that; it _is_ my job after all. So if you really think about it, I'm giving you a break by allowing the sessions to only occur every other day."

Ginny closed her eyes for a moment, unwilling to believe that it could be true and then nodded resignedly. There was no use arguing. No matter how much Ginny tried to avoid seeing Draco, Professor Martin always found an underhanded way to arrange that they met up.

"I understand. I have to go." She turned to leave and could hear Draco doing the same, but they were summoned back.

"One more thing, Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Weasley," said Professor Martin. "I heard about this Hogsmeade weekend and thought it might be nice to celebrate Ginny's release by you two spending the day together."

Draco took one look at Ginny and broke out in laughter. "Sorry…sorry…professor; but you see I've got friends to spend the day with. Not including Weasley."

Professor Martin only smiled. "I'm sure that you can include Ginny in that."

Draco's shook his head. "You don't seem to understand; I seem to develop this allergic reaction whenever I'm around…_that_. It has something to do with the cheap material of her robes, you see…"

Ginny's eyes widened. "Ohh…" she gasped. "So _that's_ where that rash comes from? Silly me; I always wrote it off as a defect of inbreeding."

Draco's eyes glittered. "Your family would know more about inbreeding than mine. After the first few runts your mother popped out, she became deplorably dumpy; your father being naturally repulsed by her handed the mantle over to your first ten brothers."

A book slammed on the desk in the room and the glaring teens looked up sharply.

"Do not force me to put a Silencing Charm on the both of you! It's terrible that you can't remain in the same room for more than five minutes without _sniping_ at each other. Now I refuse to hear any more arguments; punishments are non-negotiable."

"Punishments indeed," Draco muttered. "At least she's honest…"

Ginny's brown eyes were pleading. "Professor Martin, I _really_ can't do this today…" she said thinking about her plans with Harry and Colin. It was a joke to think that Draco would enjoy trying to set Ron and Hermione up. She wanted to laugh just thinking about it. "Like Malfoy said and as I've told you already, I have plans with other people."

But Martin was unyielding. "If you two can't find a way to spend time together and include whatever engagements you had prior to this, than I suggest it might be easier to spend the day exclusively with each other."

The faces of the two students were blank.

"If you refuse this minor task, I'll be forced to add an extra day to your weekly sessions." Draco whitened with anger. "Is that all?" asked Martin lightly. But the redhead and the blond remained silent. "Then enjoy your day! I shall see you soon." She rose from her desk. And with that she left.

Draco looked at Ginny with disgust. "I won't do this."

"Well I don't want to be bound to you forever, so you'd better reconsider."

Taking a long look at Ginny, Draco rushed out of the room and into the hall. "Where are you going?" Ginny called after him.

"To hell in a handbasket," Draco snapped.

Ginny laughed derisively behind his turned back. "Oh, I understand, fancied paying Daddy a visit?"

He ignored her; the only evidence that showed Ginny she had gotten to him was an extra rigidity in his walk.

When they reached the Entrance Hall, Draco continued to walk by. At the same moment, Ron, Hermione and Ron only just left the Great Hall.

"That was a long breakfast," Colin said to them, not noticing Ginny or Draco's rapid approach.

"Excuse Weasley, it takes a while for him to properly get that spoon-to-mouth coordination," Draco said nastily without breaking stride.

Ron's fists clenched.

"Where have you _been_?" Colin asked Ginny. "I've been standing here for ages. Filch said he would give me a detention for loitering if I didn't move in the next five minutes."

"Sorry," said Ginny irritably. "When I went to the hospital wing to pick up my watch, I couldn't find it. I was heading back here but got stopped by Malfoy. He got an owl from Martin and we took a detour to her room, which is a bit of a ways-off. Anyway, I've got not-so-good news. Professor Martin is forcing Malfoy and me to spend the day together to celebrate my release."

"What?" said Harry. "It's not as if you've just been released from prison. Doesn't she want you to have _any_ fun?"

"I know," Ginny said stiffly. "But there's nothing for it. We have to do this today or she threatened us with an extra session a week bringing it to four times weekly. And she's so nosy that I think she'd find out if we skived off it." She sighed. "I guess those 'strategies' will have to wait, Harry."

The raven-haired boy nodded. Draco couldn't be privy to their conversation, regardless of whether they were going to talk about Quidditch plans or make plans for Ron and Hermione.

Ginny spied Colin repeatedly looking at her. When she looked at him fully he appeared nervous. Understanding why she threw up her hands.

"Fine, Colin, you don't have to come with me."

"It's just that I don't want to spend the whole afternoon hearing about how I'm a gawping freak who should not be trusted with a camera."

"And so you'll leave me to the lions?" Colin looked at her mournfully. "Nevermind…just have a good time; I might still be able to meet with you and Lark at The Three Broomsticks." Colin smiled and walk past her, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Keep your head and it'll go past in no time."

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled, about to leave.

Just before going out into the sunshine, though, she stopped in front of Ron and pointed at the carriage Draco had disappeared into.

"Do you have any idea what he will put me through today?" she asked her brother. Ron wasn't sure if the question was rhetorical or not, so he opted for remaining silent. "When I am finished being put through the wringer today, Ron," she continued, "and all the ammo that Malfoy will use against me has been depleted, I will go to dinner. When that is over, I will return back to Gryffindor Tower. I will sit in the common room and wait for the appropriate time. Then I will go upstairs and knock on your door." Ron gulped. She was just as scary as his mother sometimes. "Sleep with one eye open," she finished stonily.

Then she walked off into the courtyard, red hair streaming wildly in the breeze and a dangerous glint in her eye. Now she was ready to face Draco.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"I've got to pick up a few supplies."

"Mmm, how nice."

"So let's go."

An arch of the eyebrow.

"You are the most insufferable prick I've ever had the misfortune to be stuck with."

"Admit it, Weasley; you're just hanging around to pick up the coins I might drop."

"Shove it."

"Only if you'll let me."

"No thank you, I'm not partial to venereal disease."

"Then I'm your man."

A cutting smile. "Alright then; I'm not into threesomes."

"How many times must I say it, Weasley, I'm not messing around with Pansy Parkinson."

"Who's talking about Pansy? If I was ever doped up enough to engage in anything sexual with you, the third party would be your Wanking Hand."

"You'd be blessed if I even made that offer to you."

A snort. "Then I must not have had much going for me in the first place."

That's how the afternoon had progressed for the most part.

Not wanting to subject any of her friends to Draco's disparaging remarks, Ginny opted for the other short stick – remaining with him for the entire afternoon. On the other end of the stick, Ginny was also forced to suffer through the snorts, snickers and sounds of awe from students that saw the two of them walking together.

"I'm going to have to Obliviate everyone who we came past today," Draco muttered sullenly.

"Put me in the mix," Ginny said in the same tone.

Draco sneered. "I wouldn't waste my magic on you if it were to save your sad little life."

Ginny fumed silently and trudged for the supply shops. After getting what she needed, hearing Draco comment on the lightness of her purse, and the shabbiness of the quills she bought Ginny was ready to stab him with the sharpest one she had. However it would have been a waste of money.

So Ginny opted for walking in silence and ignoring anything the pale-haired boy said.

It was uncommonly warm for that time of year and Ginny found herself unbuttoning her robe. She still needed it on to stave off the odd draft of cool air, but that was alright. Draco insisted on keeping his robe buttoned up almost to the top, and as he kept a quick pace of walking (so as not to linger in any place too long where someone might see him trotting around with a Weasley), small red patches had formed on his cheeks.

"Can you feel the heat?" Ginny said, trying to hide her smirk. Although it was almost imperceptible, she could see Draco's jaw clench. She looked up at him with large, guileless orbs. "It's rather warm for this time of the year, isn't it?"

Draco remained silent.

"Merlin…it's positively _boiling_." She loosened up her tie slowly and saw Draco staring at her from the corner of her eye, just dying to do the same. "I mean, if it were any hotter, I might just strip right here."

"And get sent to Azkaban for committing the fourth Unforgivable? That's rather brave of you, Weasley."

Ginny shrugged noncommittally. "I wouldn't be able to help myself. It's just _so_ balmy out here…"

Draco cut his eyes at Ginny. "I've caught onto your little game, Weasley; and you can come up with as much imagery as you want, but I'm sorry, I won't get naked for you."

As the two of them had just passed a rather quiet area, Ginny flushed from the stares she and Draco received from his declaration.

"See what you did?" he snapped quietly.

Despite her own embarrassment Ginny nodded. "I know; I forced people to look at you. I should give a public apology."

She and Draco grumbled along for another ten minutes.

"May I have my watch back now?" she asked him. He said nothing. Ginny stopped defiantly in the middle of the street. "I won't ask again." All Draco did was continue to walk. Pulling out her wand, Ginny whispered an immobilizing spell which froze Draco in his tracks. Walking up to him she slipped her hand in his pocket and took the brown watch out.

"Don't you just _love_ magic?" she asked him. She walked along and then checked the time. "Damn it! I forgot to go see Lark…there's still plenty of time, though…"

Just then her spell wore off and Draco came up from behind her with an expression like a thundercloud.

"Don't try that again," he warned her.

"I won't," Ginny assured him. "I think I got a burn from touching you…anyway, I need to visit a friend at The Three Broomsticks." She started to walk off; then she saw that Draco was not following. "Did you hear me? I said that I've got to go to The Three –"

Draco only smiled insolently. "I don't think I fancy a trip there," he said.

Ginny glared; her temper began to rise as she saw that he was trying to be difficult. "Well I do. I've got to see a friend. Surely you know what one of those are – and no I don't mean a fuck-buddy, Malfoy."

"You know what, Weasley? I don't think I _do_ know what a friend is…And if it's that friend of yours with the dark-hair, I don't think you'd want me to be around her…After all, seeing as I don't know what a friend is, I might say something rather rude – without intending to of course."

Ginny face was red with displeasure. "Don't try and pull that with me, Malfoy…"

He shrugged. "I'm not trying to pull anything; I just don't think that you would want to risk it."

Fighting the urge to stomp her foot or give him another punch in the face, Ginny walked in the direction back to the carriages.

"Fine. If you don't want to go where I say, then I'm going back to the castle. You arrogant pillock…I don't want to be seen with you anymore anyway…"

"One minute, Weasley," Draco said, planting his feet.

"_What now_?!" shouted Ginny.

He smirked and loosened up his tie. "I'm feeling a mite peckish…It's rather warm, you see. I think I could go for some ice-cream right about now." He turned in the direction of Fortescue's parlor.

Ginny remained silent. It was probably the best idea he had had all afternoon. Terribly disappointed at the prospect of not seeing Lark in action though, Ginny arrived at the parlor a few minutes after Draco in time to hear his order.

"One Chocolate-Mousse Supreme Delight with rainbow sprinkles, please."

Ginny's eyebrow arched. "I didn't know you had such refined taste." It was admittedly her favorite flavor as well. "I'll have the same," she said to Florean's assistant. But the woman shook her head.

"That was the last of that flavor," she said apologetically. "It's been selling like mad all day! If only you'd arrived two minutes before." She handed Draco's ice-cream over to him on a sugar cone and Ginny almost combusted at the look of sheer delight on his face.

When he turned to her though, his face was blank, though his eyes appeared larger – almost innocent. "Shame, that. If you'd only come in _two_ minutes before –" he took a lick at the large dollop of ice-cream "- you might have been the one enjoying this _illegally_ delightful cone." Then he started cracking up with malicious laughter and left for the carriages.

"You bastard," said Ginny through grit teeth.

Draco obviously heard her, for she heard him call, "Sorry to disappoint you but my parents are legit. Can you say the same for yours?"

Furiously ordering a rather plain vanilla cone with chocolate sprinkles, Ginny left Fortescue's in a temper.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they were dropped back off at Hogwarts, Ginny and Draco wandered by the Great Hall for a minute. They could hear the loud laughter and voices of other students who had come back early from the Hogsmeade visit or not gone at all.

"I don't really want to go in there," Draco admitted.

"Why? Afraid of the ickle plebeians?" asked Ginny, although she didn't want to be seen in the Great Hall with Draco either and endure any more jeering.

"Ha bloody ha," said Draco. "I'm going back to the room."

It was odd how the room where they had their sessions had already been dubbed, "The Room". It made Ginny feel like she shared something with Draco; and even it was something as miniscule as a room where they made each other's lives hell, it was still something.

When Ginny and Draco came closer to the room, they saw a tall, spindly, bespectacled figure hovering nosily around the entrance to their door.

Draco cleared his throat loudly. "Was there something you needed?" he asked.

Madam Trelawney turned her large eyes onto him and gazed at him with wonder.

"No! No! There is nothing that you could possibly do for me." But the woman did not move from the door. "Actually, perhaps one of you could tell me where Professor Martin is?" She clasped her hands together in anticipation.

"We wouldn't know," said Draco abruptly. "So sorry."

"Yes…I'm sure you are…" said the fortune-teller wispily. She eyed the two pupils almost greedily. "It is truly, truly wonderful that burned bridges are finally being constructed between your two families…"

"It's wonderful that we're constructing burning bridges?" asked Ginny.

Trelawney paused. "No, I meant that…you two are finally coming together as it has been ordained…"

Ginny actually shared a look with Draco; she decided to indulge the crazed woman. "So you've seen this in our future, have you?"

Trelawney looked caught off guard. "No…not exactly…" Draco sneered. "I mean I have! The ball is never wrong, you know!"

"Unlike its mistress," said Draco none too quietly.

"I mean after all of those _terrible_ brawls that you, Mr. Malfoy, and Ms. Weasley's brother had in the halls, it was _bound_ to happen," she said dramatically. "The two shall come together!"

"Oh, really?" asked Ginny. "So why isn't it my brother 'coming together' with Malfoy here?"

Trelawney sighed gustily. "You, my dear, do not understand the currents of the universe…" she said sadly.

Ginny tilted her head a bit angrily. "No, I don't suppose I do, because if the bleeding universe made any sense, you wouldn't have watched my brother and Malfoy beat each other to a pulp in the halls. Oh, but that's right, it was ordained that brawls at Hogwarts would happen because Uranus stuck its head in other people's business, no?"

Trelawney stared at Ginny. Draco stared at Ginny and then began to snicker.

Mouth slightly agape, Trelawney straightened up. "I will leave you to your business, then. Good day." She walked off.

Ginny threw the door open to the room and sat on her favorite couch angrily. "She's more of a cow than Martin."

Draco was still laughing as he shut the door.

"What's so funny?" snapped Ginny.

"That you were just so rude to a professor. I thought you Gryffindor were all about bowing and scraping your forelocks on the ground." He reclined languidly at the other end of Ginny's couch.

Ginny eyed him deviously. "Well, my mother raised me right." Then, she could have kicked herself, because at Draco's widening smile, she knew she had set herself up.

"Don't you just love getting cheerful tidings from home?" Draco asked.

"I had nothing to do with getting that Howler," said Ginny. "Ron set me up. He made it seem as if I was all frail and whatnot after getting out of the Infirmary and made my mother worry."

"See," said Draco taking a lick of his ice-cream; Ginny tried not to stare – at his ice cream. "That's the wonderful thing about having a mother who thinks before she acts. She is not only endowed with beauty, but poise."

Ginny struggled to maintain her own poise. "Your mother _is_ a very beautiful woman," she admitted.

Draco only shrugged.

"I suppose so."

"You _suppose_?" Ginny asked incredulously. "It's as plain as the nose on her face."

"You mean the nose on _my_ face," Draco corrected, tapping it with a long finger. "I got it from her."

Ginny rolled her eyes, trying not to grin. "Vain, vain boy."

Draco smirked.

"Don't be jealous, Weasel. Someday the Healers at Mungo's might give you free reconstructive surgery."

Ginny glared at him.

"I'm sure I'll see you, then; you'll be in one of the wards the rest of those people who suffer from Wand-Up-Arse Disease. It sounds a tad uncomfortable."

By then their 'malicious' comments were losing some of their bite. The ice-cream was way too good and it was too nice a day for them to be especially angry with each other. For some reason, knowing that they were both suffering and that no one else really understood how terrible it was to be forced to spend time with another person made them less hostile against each other.

"Do you think before you speak or just blather out whatever nonsense reaches your mouth first?"

"Sometimes," admitted Ginny, not offended. "But I've heard that it's endearing."

"Maybe to Potter," drawled Draco.

"Well, you tolerate Parkinson," Ginny spat.

Draco let out a shot of laughter before he could stop it; Ginny was startled and stared. As she was in mid lick, a plop of ice-cream fell off her cone and into her lap. Draco looked thoroughly surprised himself.

He recovered quickly. "Pansy can _afford_ to be stupid."

Blushing a bit, and looking down so that she could wipe off the ice-cream, Ginny was a bit doubtful of Draco's answer. "Is that the consolation you give yourself after a romp with a witch whose brain is as transparent as Professor Binns?"

She was having a bit of trouble aiming her wand and holding the cone at the same time; so sighing heavily; Draco held her cone for her. Fully surprised, Ginny performed the Cleaning Spell and looked back up at Draco.

"In a good mood, are we?" Ginny asked him.

Draco grinned rakishly and then took a large bite out of her cone.

"You brat!" she exclaimed, snatching it back.

"I thought your excuse for a mother taught you manners, Weasley," he said grinning.

"My mother is just as good as yours any day, Malfoy," Ginny said heatedly. "I could care less whether _Madame Malfoy_ has better robes or anything like that. At least my mother cares enough to yell at me for my indiscretions…or, or if I injure myself or something. Madame Malfoy would rather not mess up her expertly manicured fingers to write even the smallest of epistles to her dear son. She can't even be bothered to ask Jeeves to do it. So if my choice is between having a frigid ice-queen for a mother or a fiery, passionate woman, then guess which one I'm going to pick!"

Draco stared at Ginny with surprise; somewhere in his mind it was registering that he ought to take a lot of offense to the things she was saying, but most of him was in awe by how suddenly her anger had spiked up.

Ginny sneered at him. "Merlin…just, just look at you; I could sit here all day insulting everything about you, and you would just sit there as cool as you please without feeling anything."

At that remark Draco decided to defend himself. "Only idiots let themselves fall into passionate fits – all of the Weasleys have that attribute in spades. The lot of you is so involved in your miniscule worlds, getting upset at the smallest possible things that you don't see the bigger picture."

"That's not it at all," Ginny argued. "At least we feel something. Fine, we…tend to get a little overly upset at things sometimes, but how else will we know that we're even human? We get angry because we _feel_ something; it's that passion that let's us know we're alive."

Looking at Ginny just then, it was difficult for Draco to dispute what the redhead had just told him. She looked very much alive to him. Her passionate speech had added color to her features, and though her hair was standing a bit on end from shoving her hand through it repeatedly during the day, it was more charming than anything else. Even her fists drew his attention, clenching and unclenching in her lap, one hand holding up the dripping cone while the other sat tersely on the spot where the treat had fallen minutes before. Her frazzled nerves had led her to perform a less than perfect Cleaning Charm, but Draco would be damned if he would mention it in the state she was in just then.

And the last thing that he noticed, that he always noticed were her slightly parted lips. He tried to tell himself that of course he would notice them – she refused to shut up – but it was desire that tugged his eyes to them, although he would die before admitting it.

Ginny had all but called him a cold fish, but if she looked hard enough into his eyes that were gazing at her in utter fascination, even she would be hard put to repeat that statement.

Ginny finally noticed Draco's steely gaze on her. "What are you looking at?" she said snappishly.

Had Draco not had as much composure as he did he might have jumped.

"Nothing…" he muttered looking away. Why was it always at the most inopportune times that he found himself noticing these stupid little facts about her? Like that what he thought was a freckle on her lower lip was really a chocolate sprinkle. Would she mind if he did something about it…?

Draco found himself getting a bit warmer as he pondered on that. _Why_ had he chosen to sit on the same couch as her?

"It had better be nothing," Ginny told him. "Especially after you ate my ice-cream…"

Ginny wanted to smack herself. What did eating ice-cream have to do with anything? It might have had something to do with the fact that she desperately needed to calm down. Although she was by no means upset that she had just yelled at Draco when they had been semi-joking only a few minutes before, she was admittedly a little shocked that she had taken so much offense to what he had said about her mother.

Thinking on it a little more in silence, Ginny realized that while she wished that her mother hadn't yelled at her for Ron's stupidity, she missed it in a way. Molly Weasley was one of the fiercest dictators Ginny had ever met and if there was a time that Ginny needed to be told what to do, it was then.

With annoyance, Ginny wondered if Draco even wondered how disgustingly attractive he was eating ice-cream. The more conversation they had, the more she found herself watching his every move. It was terrible. And it was sinful for her to notice. _And_ he didn't seem to be affected in the same way at all!

She tried to console herself with the idea that she wanted to keep herself on guard, and the best way to do it was by watching him; then watching him put her right back where she started. So, she returned to the practice that she adopted while in the Hospital Wing – spitting fire at him. If the only way to stamp down whatever _attraction_ had sprung up was to yell at him, then so be it.

'He started it,' she thought sulkily, unconsciously finishing her vanilla cone. When he had taken that great chunk out of it and Ginny had snatched it back, she was forced to think about the fact that his lips had touched it. She pushed that thought back.

'He probably has germs.'****

"Damn it," Ginny said aloud. "I'm out of ice-cream."

"Oh no," said the blond tonelessly, "Someone call the constable."

Ginny was glaring at him full force when an idea came into her head.

"Hey, Malfoy," she said calmly.

"What?" He looked at her knowing that she was up to something.

"I'm all out and you owe me."

He sniffed. "I don't owe you anything."

"I think you do," Ginny continued. "Not only did you bring up a subject that is very grievous to me ("A Howler," he scoffed), but you insulted my mother, and then ate some of my ice-cream."

"And why would I care to make it any better, Weasley?"

"Because I'm ordering you to!" she snapped.

"Well, seeing as you're asking so nicely and all…" Draco said sarcastically.

Ginny sighed. "Look, you shouldn't be so selfish. That waitress was all over you and she gave you the biggest scoop I've ever seen anyone get – except for Harry that is…" she lied expertly. "And even then Harry gave me some…"

"Fine," Draco said tersely. "What do I care if you add another few spots to your face?"

Ginny smiled faultlessly. "You and I both know there's nothing there," she said. And with a great deal of satisfaction at having manipulated Draco enough into getting what she wanted, she came a bit closer to him and held her hand out.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well what?"

"Are you planning on giving me the cone, or did you want to feed me?"

Draco shoved it at her.

"Cheers," said Ginny with a gigantic smile.

For the next minute, Draco watched in agonized suffering as Ginny devoured a good deal of his ice-cream. He no longer wondered what her tongue would do if it wasn't lashing him with her words.

It ran around the peak of the chocolate treat to either side with relish and he was appalled to find that he enjoyed watching it as much as he did. Ginny, feeling a pair of silver eyes on her looked up.

"Finished?"

Ginny swallowed. "Yup."

Gingerly, so as not to make any contact with her skin Draco took the cone back. He wasn't sure if the girl beside him felt it, but a tense silence rested over them.

He glanced at her only to see her doing the same.

"Yes?" she asked him.

He searched for something to say. "You've got stuff on your face." 'Damn.'

Ginny refused to be abashed by that. "So I might. Does it bother you much, Mr. Immaculate?"

His eyes glittered as he thought of payback. "Yes it does."

And with a mischievous smile on his face he leaned forward to a thunderstruck Ginny; his cone hovered in the air with a well placed charm. Draco's face only mere millimeters away from her own, he took her chin in his long fingers and looked her straight in the eye.

Then, he bent down until his mouth was at the corner of her lips and licked the sprinkle away, letting his tongue linger for longer than he should have. He made eye contact with her once again.

However, upon seeing Ginny's wide brown eyes staring at him as if Father Christmas had just licked her, Draco pulled away with something akin to horror.

The two of them sat there until Ginny decided to speak.

"That didn't happen," she said with cool composure, refusing to look at him.

Pulling himself together Draco looked askance at the redhead and managed to pull together a semblance of a smirk.

"What didn't happen?" he asked.

"My point exactly," said Ginny in the same tone; and with more dignity than Draco thought she possessed, she left the room.

The lock clicked in the door as it closed.

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Mini A.N.: I dunno, I really like vanilla ice-cream. It's one of my 3 favorite flavors. Anyway, I hope you guys all liked this chapter. I had so much fun writing it, even though it was a bit sappy I felt. Please tell me if you enjoyed it. Too much drama? Too little? What do you think?

I have an idea!

Tell me in a review!

Okay, that was really cheezy, but, yeah, please review. I'd love you forever.

And here are the responses to last chapter's reviews:

**Beauty Eclipsed** I'm glad I made you laugh. You know, actually, I've considered changing this fic to a Romance/Humor with Dramatic Tendencies…Anyway, I'll see. Thanks for reviewing! **Laurlaur** I will definitely get into them more. It might seem like it's taking forever to get to some action with them, but I promise it'll come. I'm glad you like the story so far. **neha** Thank you so much! **Morgain Lestrage** Thanks!

That's all for now.

Femme


	10. Chapter Ten

Author's Notes: I love all of you reviewers; you all make me feel splendiferous. A lot of your comments and suggestions really help me as well, so thank you very much and keep it coming!

Disclaimer: I only own the plot. What joy!

_Miss Cellophane_

* * *

After much reflection, Ginny Weasley came to the conclusion that Draco Malfoy had serious issues.

She had known that before the sessions; she was knew it when he pulled his wand out on her during their first session; and now she was three-hundred and fifty percent sure of it now that he had…licked her.

'What kind of person…licks someone and then runs?' she asked herself tapping her foot on the common room carpet. 'Well, _I_ ran…but still, I think I managed to do it with a lot of dignity. And what would he expect that I do? Lick him back?'

Running along that train of thought made Ginny even more heated – but not in the way she wanted so she switched to blaming him more.

'He's such a prick,' she thought inwardly. 'He only did it to ruffle me, but if he thinks that that I'll become softer toward him he's got another thing coming. What a womanizer…he took complete advantage of me,' she fumed.

A section of Ginny was still in shock. When Draco had crept closer to her mouth she could have sworn that he was going to kiss her. Then he went and did something so utterly seductive that she just wanted to explode…or, bite him or something.

Ginny wondered if he would think of biting as a come-on.

'I mean, I wouldn't _bite_ him, bite him,' she contemplated. 'Just a little nibble…'

Ginny's quill squirted ink from how hard she was pressing it onto her homework parchment. Her face heated up and she looked around the common room to see if anyone noticed the little mishap.

"_Scourgify_," she muttered, erasing the dark ink from the tan sheets of paper. Looking downward she noticed that she had a few spots of vanilla on her robes and scowled.

'I know that he saw it there and he didn't say anything! I bet he was laughing his arse off inside. All he did was –' Ginny halted. All Draco had done was ignore it and almost-kiss her anyway. She didn't know what she thought of that. One thing she was sure of though, was that he was deliberately toying with her. She had seen the minor look of shock on his face after 'The Incident', but was positive that it didn't mean he was only guilty of getting caught up in the moment. He had definitely wanted to play with her emotions and she wouldn't think otherwise.

The way he had crept up on her all dangerous and sensual-like…

It was to be despised.

Especially the part where she could feel the softness of his lips for the briefest moment at the corner of her mouth. And where she had wished for a second – half a second – that his mouth would have moved over just slightly so that it could caress her own –

"Do you want a lick?"

Ginny was jolted out of her thoughts by a loud third-year who was asking her male friend if he wanted a taste of her Never Ending Lolly.

"That's disgusting!" Ginny shouted at them. "Is all you think about, kissing?"

The two children blinked; Ginny looked at the lollipop as if seeing it for the first time. "I…I meant to say 'germs'. Do you think about…the germs you would get if you shared a lollipop?"

The girl blinked and stared at Ginny with the most flabbergasted look on her third-year face. "He's my brother."

With a strained sort of smile Ginny decided to pick up her things and head up to her room to have some space. She was scaring people, and that certainly wouldn't help her on the road to recovery.

Something that _wasn't_ coming along, though, was her homework. After leaving the room Ginny still had a large amount of time to whittle away by her lonesome. Lark and Colin had yet to come back from Hogsmeade, so she was left to her own devices. Seeing as there wasn't really much else to do besides wander around the castle or do some homework Ginny opted for the latter. She still had a lot to make up after her stay in the Hospital Wing.

Immersing herself in work Ginny found that she was able to momentarily forget the whole episode in Professor Martin's room. Unfortunately, an hour into that a tawny owl came swooping in through the circular window on the other side of the common room. It was a reprimand from Professor McGonagall on behalf of Professor Trelawney. Quoting Trelawney, the Head of House told Ginny that the diviner wanted to give Ginny a detention for "verbally abusing a teacher in front of another student", and "swearing most spectacularly without any shame whatsoever". McGonagall went on to tell Ginny that all teachers – however agreeable one found them or not – should be treated with respect; and that no, she would not be getting a detention but five points would have to be taken away from Gryffindor for the slight with an added warning not to repeat the performance.

The letter only served to put Ginny in a foul mood once more, as Trelawney had only proved to be a tattletale.

Slipping out a clean sheet of parchment from her bag Ginny prayed that McGonagall would not notify her mother of the slight. Molly Weasley had given Ginny three days to compose a letter to her or else her Christmas presents would be nonexistent. Thinking that writing a letter to one's mother disposed of all sexual thoughts, Ginny proceeded to ink out a response. She made sure to include lots of "sorry"s and "I love you"s – not that she was trying to be frivolous. She just wanted to make sure that her mother understood that she really didn't mean to upset either of her parents, and that she would be most obliged if she was not strung up by her nose for not writing sooner.

That out of the way Ginny looked back at her homework.

She had no concentration for such tedious seeming things as that when she was in such a state. What she wanted more than anything was to talk to Lark, yell at Ron and then go to bed and see if the next day would be any better.

After another hour and a half of being purely unproductive Ginny put away her work things and went down to the Great Hall for dinner.

Lark was talking animatedly to Colin about something and Hermione was nose deep in a book.

"Ginny!" Lark called out. "Come over here."

Colin grinned wryly. "Watch out; she's only going to assault you with more details of what happened today. She's told me at least twice already and I was there for half of it anyway."

"Quiet. Where were you today?" she asked Ginny. "I was waiting for you to show up but you never did; Colin told me you had an extra session with Malfoy today."

Ginny nodded glumly. She briefly explained that she and the blond had walked around Hogsmeade for a bit and then came back to Hogwarts.

"Before you tell me about what happened today though," Ginny said changing the subject, "I'm curious to know what went on last night in the common room; what were you and Parvati talking about?"

Lark frowned. "Oh, that…According to Parvati I've been 'chasing after Seamus' and she thinks it's 'rather cute'. She wanted to inform me that she had no issues whatsoever with any relationship that 'might randomly spring up' and that I shouldn't be 'intimidated by the reputation that precedes her'."

Ginny was shocked. "Did she really say that? What a hag!"

"I know! That's awful," Hermione sympathized. Lark and Ginny looked at her. "Well I just overheard what you two were talking about and I thought…"

Lark smiled. "It's fine; I could use all the advice I can get. Anyway, she went on to say that if Seamus and I should happen to go out in the near future that we would go with her full blessing…I don't know…" said Lark worriedly. "I don't really want to get into a relationship with him if she's still hung up on him – I mean, I'm not overly fond of Parvati, but I know that if I still liked someone it would be horrible to see them with someone else."

Ginny smiled a bit at her friend. "For one thing, Lark, it's kind of late not to get involved with him – you did go to Hogsmeade with him yesterday."

Hermione nodded. "And I saw Parvati with some Ravenclaw that her sister introduced her to – as a matter of fact I've seen her with him since the beginning of school."

"Personally I just think that she's trying purposely to throw you off," added Ginny. "I mean you're just as pretty as she is, if not prettier. And she can be rather nice on occasion but she gets jealous so easily. She doesn't bloody well _own_ Seamus; if he wants to see other people he's allowed to – if she can, he should be able to also."

Lark nodded slowly. "If you say so…but listen to what happened at The Three Broomsticks. We went there and it was pretty much just the two of us. Then Dean Thomas came with a Hufflepuff girl and Lavender turned up with a Ravenclaw. After a bit I was wondering where you were, and I was going to look around for you. Seamus offered to come as well, but then guess who shows up?"

"Parvati?" offered Ginny.

"Mmhm. And she was being genuinely nice to me – at least it seemed like it – that for a second I thought it might have been Padma."

Hermione shook her head. "But Padma's much snottier," she informed them knowingly. Ginny wondered how it always seemed that Hermione knew all of the gossip that was around when she seemingly spent so much time on work.

"And I guess everything turned out all right in the end; I had a lot of fun at least."

Ginny grinned. "I'm sure you did, Ms. Piston. Might I ask if you'll be doing this again?"  
Lark blushed. "Next Hogsmeade visit. It's _still_ not an exclusive relationship or anything like that – we're just going as friends, but he did ask me as we were leaving on the carriages."

Ginny shrugged. "That bloke knows what he wants indeed."

"Oh shut up," said Lark.

"It's true," Colin put in, joining the conversation. "I was there and saw how flirty you two were; if it hadn't been for Dean they would've been all over each other."

"That's not true!" exclaimed Lark.

"I was about to steal a few pints of Firewhiskey and drink them until I mercifully blacked out, it was so disgusting. I could've really used your help, Ginny."

"I could have too!" exclaimed Hermione, putting the book down. "Ron and Harry were being absolutely insufferable today! They both refuse to tell me what it was you said last night."

Ginny felt put on the spot. Had Hermione asked her to spill the beans earlier on in the day, Ginny would have done it without a care. However Ginny's afternoon hadn't been _wholly_ terrible, a bit strange, but not completely unbearable. So if she told Hermione about the teasing, the seventh-year would wonder why Ron took so much offense to it and come to the conclusion that Ron had feelings for her – she wasn't stupid. Of course she might not do anything about it at all, just mull over it for another seven years; but all the same Ron would be devastated that he hadn't told Hermione himself. Ginny would be just as much of a revenge monger as her brother.

She looked at Hermione in what she hoped was a relaxed manner. "It really was something stupid…at least to Harry and me – maybe not to Ron. I think I should talk to him first and then maybe he'll feel better about telling you." She looked at the empty spaces next to Hermione. "Where are they anyway?"

"You should know that Ron is hiding in his dormitory like you told him. He ordered Harry to go with him for support against you."

Ginny smirked at that; fully satisfied that for once Ron had taken one of her threats seriously. She was just way too easy on him sometimes.

"I didn't tell Ron to hide; I told him to wait in his room until I came up to have a chat with him," she explained.

"Ginny," said Colin wondrously, "You told the man to keep one eye open in his sleep; we all know that you didn't say that so he could try and see if it was possible." He looked Ginny in the eyes. "You were after his blood."

The serious look in Colin's eyes caused the girls to break out in laughter.

After a few more minutes in which Hermione, Colin, and Lark helped Ginny to formulate plans in which she could successfully torture Ron; Ginny decided she was ready to go up to the common room.

She stood up and promptly slammed into Draco Malfoy.

"A little jumpy today, aren't we, Red? Try to steady your nerves." He laughed at Ginny's reddening face and left before she did.

Colin and the other two girls watched Draco leave. "What did he say to you? He must've been foul to make you so red."

"Don't give him that much credit; it's just sunburn."

Lark nodded slowly; Hermione and Colin looked suspicious.

"It _was_ rather sunny today," said the dark-haired sixth-year. The three of them conveniently forgot to mention that Ginny had not been 'sunburned' ten minutes before.

* * *

Coming through the portrait Ginny saw Harry's hunched figure in his favorite chair, _Quidditch Through the Ages_.

"Where's your partner in crime?" Ginny asked leaning over him, startling the poor boy out of his fascinating read.

Harry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Hiding away in his room like you told him to."

"I didn't – never mind," sighed Ginny. "I'd better deal with him now."

"Don't rough him up too much," Harry advised. "Remember that he still needs to be fit for Quidditch."

"What a good friend you are," Ginny told Harry going up the stairs.

Upon reaching the top she knocked on the door three times; there was no answer from within. Feeling slightly impatient at Ron's childish antics Ginny knocked three times more; this time much louder.

Cringing a little at the sound of shuffling feet and then something knocking over Ginny pressed her ear to the outside of the wooden door and almost jumped ten feet when a booming voice met her ears.

"I know you're out there, Ginny!" shouted Ron. The redheaded sixth-year saw a few accusing looks directed at her at the sound of her brother's bellow.

"What?" she snapped. "I haven't done anything yet!" She turned back to Ron's door. "What a coincidence, I know you're in there," she stated.

"And that's where you'll stay. That prat Harry was supposed to be up here with me but he opted for abandoning his best friend in his time of need."

"Harry's not to blame for this, Ron."

"_Harry's_ a tosser!" proclaimed Ron from within. "That should be his name; Harry Tosser!"

The boy that was being spoken about shot a black look at the seventh-year dormitory door.

"I hope the first thing Ginny does is cut off your tongue!" he shouted back. "Only Hermione benefits from it anyway!"

Ginny couldn't see all the way down to the couch but she heard a _thwap!_ And a yell. She rolled her eyes.

"I completely agree with you, Ron" she said dryly. If she wanted to get inside she would have to pacify him… "Harry was really insensitive the night of the party, and it was only due to my exposure to him that I spoke so…that I spoke…out of turn. I'm willing to apologize, though."

There was a pause.

"And…and what about that _Percy_ dig you took at me this morning?"

Ginny buried a large sigh; this was all getting rather annoying.

"Look, I promise never to say that again; calling you a Percy was below the belt. It shall never again come from my lips – unless you deserve it, of course."

"Ginny –"

"That's the best you'll get out from me RonWeasley, so you'd better let me in before I blast down the door and take you with it!"

The distinct sound of a lock being opened filtered out to Ginny.

"Since when've you become so _violent_?" Ron mumbled. "You know it's really un-ladyli –"

Ginny shoved the door inward causing Ron to stumble back a few steps. Before shutting it she heard Harry's agitated voice.

"Do what you will to him," he called. "It is now a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

"Right, then Ronnie; let's get down to business." Ginny clasped her hands together. "Do you have anything to say to me?"

Ron shuffled. "Would 'sorry' suffice?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Maybe."

The redheaded seventh-year threw his hands up in the air. "What else do you want me to say? Would you like me to give you my liver?"

Ginny made a face. "No thanks; you know I hate liver."

"No one asked you to eat it."

"Well I'm not exactly going to keep it in a jar by my bedside, mor-Ron."

Ron scowled. "I thought you stopped calling me that."

"I thought you stopped acting like a fool," Ginny quipped.

"There is something called respecting one's elder, Ginny."

She waved her hand intolerantly. "I've just apologized for it, so please don't make me call you Percy again, Ronnie. I really don't think you should be threatening me right now either."

"D'you know that you're a madwoman? All the boys got the sane genes and the crazy ones were left for you."

"That's Ginny Weasley, for you; always getting the bottom of the barrel." Ron opened his mouth. "And you'd best not continue to 'apologize' in that fashion; you're already up Shit Creek without a paddle."

"Nice imagery, Ginny," grumbled Ron, still shuffling his feet.

"I do try."

He scuffed his feet some more; so much so that Ginny wondered if he wasn't trying to do the two-step. "Stop moving around, Ron," she ordered.

"Why?" he asked suspiciously. "Are moving targets a bit harder for you to hex?"

"_Exactly_ – remember that I'm supposedly after your liver."

He glared at her. "Do you know how many laws you'd break if you tried to eat me?" he asked seriously. "The Non-Cannibalism law, the law that says you can't murder people – because I'll be damned if you eat my liver while I'm still breathing – the…"

"Do you realize the law you broke this morning? The Non-Tattletale Law that prohibits siblings from tattling and squealing to Mummy. In my opinion that law outshadows all the rest; it was established long ago that all Weasley children would kill someone before ever ratting them out – unless of course the blackmail is too good to pass up…"

"Yes, I know," said Ron, feeling guiltier by the minute.

"This is why I would have rather that we had a row over the whole teasing matter rather than you go scribbling owls off to Mum."

Ron glowered at his sister. "Under those same stipulations I thought it was understood that details of one sibling's …er…_ardor_ or, or whatever would not be divulged because it's just plain wrong."

Ginny's eyes went soft as she looked at her brother. Getting up with a gusty sigh she pulled him next to her.

"You can't let it go on like this forever, Ron."

He averted his eyes. "Well I know that Mum won't be cross with you forever, she's probably already –"

"You _know_ what I mean…"

There was silence in the room.

"I don't know how to tell her…I don't even know where to start. Whenever I try – I really have been, you know – it always comes out wrong. Like once I said to her, 'You know, Herm…you're different…' and she starts yelling at me not to call her 'Herm' and that there's nothing wrong with being a Muggle-born. I wasn't talking about difference in terms of magic! She's so bloody difficult, that one. I really can't stand her sometimes."

"You love her."

"Who the hell knows what love's supposed to feel like anyway?!"

Ginny shrugged. "I'm not sure…Lark told me that her mother said it was like lightening, once."

"So not only do I have to fight with myself over this, but the bloody elements as well?! This whole thing is really overrated."

"You don't think it's worth it?" questioned Ginny.

"It had better be, or I've wasted precious years of my life on it."

"Well with an attitude like that how could Hermione refuse you?"

"Shut up, Ginny."

"Harry and I are trying to help you, you know. We can tell that Hermione cares for you as well, but both of you are just dancing around the subject like Mexican Jumping Beans or something; it's quite disturbing actually to see the lengths to which both of you will go to ignore what's right in front of you. Last year you wouldn't even say the word 'love' around Hermione lest she magically connect it back to you. I swear sometimes, Ron that you're swimming in the shallow end of the gene pool."

After saying as much, though, Ginny wondered if Ron would understand what she just told him. She only knew about Mexican Jumping Beans from when Lark showed them to her once after visiting her house.

"My point is only this: you must make progress with Hermione. _Show_ her how you feel – maybe words aren't your strong point because you get nervous. Why not be extra nice to her or something? Because if you and our Head Girl don't move ahead Harry and I have already got plans to move this whole thing along _for_ you. Understand?"

"Is this my punishment for the Howler?" asked Ron glumly at the prospect of trying to woo someone. It was hard enough for him to coax Pig into staying still; how was he supposed to coerce Hermione into a relationship with him?

"Don't think of this as a punishment per se, brother mine. Think of the benefits you shall reap from this experience."

A pause.

"Did you know that you're evil, Ginny?"

"No, not _evil_, Ron; wicked. I'm wicked – and thank you."

* * *

Sunday passed in a blur of homework, plotting with Harry against Hermione and Ron, plotting with Lark against whatever Parvati was up to, and plotting against Draco's hidden motives.

So much so that she was surprised to find herself once more dreading the upcoming lunch she had with Mr. I LikeToLickMyEnemies – It's Disconcerting, that day. Naturally Ginny's temper was already higher than usual because of it, but it made for a difficult day when combined with Lark's uncharacteristic dark mood. Actually, the rest of the weekend had been rather terrible for everyone, and all in one Sunday.

Lark informed Ginny that Seamus had been avoiding her ever since Saturday and that it was really grating on her nerves. Parvati was on another boyfriend which was probably only to make Seamus jealous. So Lark was not feeling very charitable toward most of the Gryffindor seventh-year females – Hermione graciously excluded – as Parvati was in with Lavender who also seemed to act rather cold toward Ginny's best friend.

Ron was dodging Hermione on a technicality that he told Ginny about. "You didn't say _when_ I had to start…you know, getting her to like me and stuff." This led to Hermione being cross with Ron for avoiding her, which led to her being cross with Harry for still not revealing the conversation on the night of Ginny's 'Welcome Back' party. Harry was invariably annoyed with Ron for what he described as a "Whopping case of stupidity" and retreated to the Quidditch pitch to get away from arguments that sprang up when his two best friends were in the room, Ron only participating in the rows half-heartedly. He plotted with Ginny when he wasn't feeling an ulcer coming on.

Colin had a week's detention for setting a Slytherin on fire – by accident of course.

The obnoxious sixth-year snake had wandered into the development room that was used by few people save for Colin and a few Hufflepuffs interested in photography. The Gryffindor had finished setting out the last of his prints from the past month when the Slytherin came in and started taunting Colin. After a particularly nasty comeback that Colin made, the Slytherin held up the set of prints and cast a fire charm on them with his wand. Trying to put out the flames Colin ended up inflaming the Slytherin sixth-year due to his distress about the lost photos he had painstakingly taken. The boy ran out of the room and through the halls with the front of his robes on fire and saw Snape who happened to be walking down at that moment. Aghast, the Potions savant distinguished the flames and demanded to know what happened. The Slytherin – who had actually not been harmed at all other than being scared out of his wits – promptly accused Colin of being a 'Fire-Starting-Madman' who belonged in prison. Colin, losing his temper, promptly asked if he could get a cell furthest away from the Slytherin's parents; Snape decreed that Colin get five week's detention. Eventually Colin was hauled up before McGonagall who said that the Slytherin was lucky he hadn't set the whole school on fire by setting the developing chemicals alight. And the outlandish five-week detention was whittled down to one week for both parties.

Generally there was a great feeling of ill will all around.

Leaving a particularly painful Potion's lesion in which Snape hovered menacingly around Ginny's little group on Monday, Ginny's hackles were very up. As she passed on to her next class with Colin and Lark, there was one last relentless Slytherin took it upon herself to hiss at Ginny.

"Go back to your mummy, little one, I might step on you," Ginny said with only a hint of bite in her voice.

Then the girl actually stopped in front of Ginny, put her hands on her hips and hissed once more. Lark's eyebrows were arched in surprise at the girl's audacity, Colin rolled his eyes, and Ginny frowned.

"You're a little thing aren't you? Can't be more than a fourth-year," said the redhead.

"_Actually_ I'm in your year, you Weasley." She hissed once more; it was all getting kind of silly, really.

Ginny smiled benevolently. "Colin, Lark, look at it; I think it's faulty. Aren't they supposed to bark?" The girl's mouth opened like a fish. "Oh, and I apologize for thinking you were two years below us – your immaturity deceived me."

Even so, the girl refused to move.

Spying Pansy Parkinson and a few more of her cronies, Ginny shouted out to her. "Call off your boarhound, Parkinson before I put it down."

Pansy only tittered and walked on, ignoring Ginny completely. Exasperated Ginny pushed a bit violently by the girl and walked on.

"This isn't over, yet!" she called to Ginny's back.

"Oh, but it is!" Ginny shouted back.

"I think we have Potions with her," said Colin shifting his book bag on his shoulder.

"I never noticed her before," said Lark. "She really is young looking."

Ginny shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it anymore. "A baby's looks to go with a baby's mind. She called me a Weasley. Gosh, I don't think I've heard that one before. I am officially shocked and awed."

"I hate Slytherins," said Colin passionately, glaring at the few they passed. "The whole lot of them are nothing but a greedy, selfish, bigoted bunch of piss ants who deserve nothing but that we Gryffindor step all over them."

Ginny and Lark glanced at Colin in surprise.

"Since when are you so hateful of them?" asked Lark.

"Since that arsehole destroyed a month's worth of hard work and I have to serve detention for it." He shook his head. "I really hope that you give Malfoy a hard time, Ginny, because I won't be able to stand it if I see his stupid face leering our way anymore."

"What are you talking about?" the redhead asked.

"He was glaring in our direction at meal time all during breakfast yesterday. I was hoping that Ron would call him out on it and kick his poncy little face in, but I was the only one who noticed."

Lark didn't say anything.

"I really don't know how you can stand to be near him Ginny." They reached the door to class. "Just keep your head like I told you to on Saturday and don't let him get to you. Be like stone." Colin walked inside with Lark following.

Ginny walked in a bit slower, a heavy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

If she 'handled' Draco the way she had on Saturday she was in for a lot of grief with Colin.

* * *

Lunch was a quiet affair in the Great Hall that day.

The doom and gloom that Ginny and her friends felt was mirrored by the gray day outside. It was as if it had never been sunny and warm outside only a few days before. The noise level inside the room was also a bit hushed. The seventh-years especially seemed to be keeping very low key for some reason; most seemed to keep to themselves while maintaining ponderous and thoughtful looks on their faces. Others just looked plain miserable.

Ginny questioned Harry about it.

"Why does everyone have such a long face?"

"N.E.W.T.S.," he muttered. "The work level is actually starting to get scary; I've no idea how we're going to get through it all."

"_That's_ only because the two of you didn't finish your homework by last night like I told you to," said Hermione with an air of great sagacity. "Now you've got to finish that Transfiguration essay by last period tomorrow along with practicing the spells Flitwick instructed you to in Charms."

"Extra homework _again_?" asked Ginny incredulously. "Don't tell me you're going to do a repeat of fifth-year."

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't nag, Ginny, unless you want to write an essay up for me."

"Don't be silly," said Hermione sipping her pea soup. "Ginny hasn't done these charms before. If you want…I'll help you."

Ron looked up sharply. "You don't have to…" he said, sounding like he really wanted her to.

"It's fine," she said loftily, although her cheeks looked a bit pink… "After all, you've still got to get to work on that Potions essay due Friday, and then there's a revision game that I thought might be fun to try…I'll help you as well, Harry. Of course."

Harry sipped his juice. "Thanks for not forgetting me, Hermione," was the only thing he said; he and Ginny shared a secret smirk.

After that Ginny munched her sandwich in silence. Listening to the seventh-year's struggles made her feel a little guilty for thinking about her own problems with Draco. Misery loved company and so there was no need for her to wallow in it alone; especially on someone such as Draco Malfoy. She saw Colin glaring at intervals at the Slytherin table and felt worse. He had worked really hard on those pictures and didn't deserve having to start over. A month's work gone…

"Which one was it, Col?" she asked.

He growled. "The one to the right of Boris Hutchinson; see him?"

"Tall but heavyset?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Mmm. He has a nasty look on his face if ever there was one…"

"Wasn't that way when he was lit up like Hogwarts at Christmas," jibed Colin. Ginny nodded and took a quick scan of the whole table. Just before she put focus back on her own table, though, her eyes saw grey.

Draco was staring at her with the most expressionless look she had ever seen on any person's face. It was empty, but at the same time coolly calculating; the look one might give to an interesting rock. As if his thoughts were saying, "That's an interesting rock," yet he replaced the rock with Ginny Weasley. "That's an interesting Weasley," she imagined him saying in a bored tone.

He wouldn't look away, Ginny thought with irritation, discounting the fact that she wouldn't either. Was there something on her face?

"Only his lips."

Ginny's eyes went large and she looked away quickly. "Excuse me?" she said to whomever.

Lark looked at her. "Colin asked me why I'm so interested in Seamus. I told him, 'Nothing in particular.' And the smart aleck said I only like him for his lips."

Ginny gave Colin a pointed look, trying to erase what she had been thinking. "How would you know about Seamus's lips?"

"I've heard a bunch of girls talking," he said shrugging.

"Was one of them Parvati or Lavender?" asked Lark sharply.

"What do you think?"

Lark scowled.

Engaging only halfway in conversation between her friends Ginny somewhat mechanically finished her lunch. Harry and Ron were conversing about something – Quidditch, Ginny suspected – Hermione was reading a textbook, Colin was still sulking about his photos, and Lark was talking with Dean Thomas.

Checking the watch that had been rightfully restored to its home, Ginny saw that it was time to meet Draco. She glanced over at the Slytherin table and saw that her fellow sufferer had already left. Making her customary excuse Ginny departed the Great Hall, mind whirring speculatively. She was not at all in the mood to deal with Draco Malfoy and from the collective attitude that the seventh-years had that day he most likely reciprocated those sentiments. So why should they suffer?

With a self-approving nod of the head Ginny headed for the main staircase that would give her a relatively short pass to Gryffindor Tower. It might be nice to catch up on some rest or just laze about instead of arguing for once. Catching another staircase that should satisfactorily have taken Ginny a corridor away from where she wanted to be, Ginny was rendered immediately speechless.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Weasley," said a rich voice.

Ginny drudged up a smile that only halfway revealed her dismay at finding the smiling Professor Martin on the same staircase as herself.

"Hello, Professor."

Martin went straight in for the kill. "Where might you be headed?"

"My common room," Ginny said forthrightly. "I wanted to grab my bag so that I wouldn't have to rush at the end of the…session to get to my next class."

"Of course!" said Martin brightly, checking her watch as the staircase settled onto Ginny's floor. "You might want to hurry along though; you're a little late in meeting with Draco. I ran into him on his way to your room."

Ginny tried to seem interested. "Oh…did you?"

"Yes…" said Martin looking a little more serious. "He was a bit agitated – the upcoming exams I presume. It will do him some good to just relax and talk with a fellow student." Ginny fought against a laugh. "I know that the two of you aren't very close,"

Martin went on, "but speaking with someone else is often therapeutic – you might suddenly find yourself confiding in the person you least expected, and be even more surprised to discover that they respond to that."

"Yes, well I had the good fortune to confide in someone, once," said Ginny frostily. "The only downside was that the response I got almost killed me."

Ginny saw a sudden look of shock register on the older woman's face and colored, feeling slightly guilty. She was constantly taking out her anger on Professor Martin. Part of it was due to the fact that Ginny found Lourna Martin intrusive and more than a little annoying. Ginny hadn't missed the clever way the professor had slipped Malfoy's first name into the conversation.

No doubt the woman had fair intentions – why if the entire world put the same effort into solving old family feuds it would no doubt be a better place – but Ginny still harbored resentment that she was being forced into the whole arrangement. She had taken it like a trooper when Dumbledore first informed her of the detention, but Dumbledore had an entirely different approach when dealing with matters such as this. He seemed understanding – or at least willing to without the invasiveness of Martin. Ginny also blamed all of the random odd moments that she shared with Draco on the professor. She would not have ended up being constantly tormented with the reality and the thoughts of Draco Malfoy had Martin not insisted that they spend as much time together as possible.

All that in mind though, Professor Martin only wanted to do her job well and did not deserve Ginny's wrath – it was better used on Draco anyway. She decided to apologize, even if one of the motivations for it was to save herself from another reprimand from McGonagall.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said to the older woman. "I really am. This whole thing is just rather…difficult for me – I'm sure it is for, er…Draco as well."

Martin nodded her acceptance to the apology, although it seemed a little stiff to Ginny. "Of course. Just remember to keep an open mind about the whole thing – really do – and you might find yourself surprised with the results."

Not knowing what to say to that Ginny hurried along to the common room after a lukewarm goodbye to Professor Martin so that she could go and get her bag. Glumly, Ginny retraced her steps so that she could go meet Draco.

'Hurrah,' she thought.

* * *

Ginny stepped in the room with a barrage of insults waiting at the tip of her tongue; instead she was cut off from the get go.

"You're late. Don't let the door slam when you close it."

Frowning Ginny made sure that the door closed smoothly. "Why do you care if I'm late?" she asked. She went to recline on her favorite chair but the blond was all over it. He had random papers scattered on every inch of it and even part of the floor. Although they were in neat piles it annoyed Ginny that he was taking up half of the room. "Like your space, do you?" she asked dryly.

Draco answered without looking up. "Your tardiness irritates me because obviously I'm in the middle of important work and you're disturbing me. And yes, I like having lots of space. I know you don't get that much in your own home but in this room try to stay out of mine."

"You don't own this room," Ginny informed him opting to sit on another couch.

"No, I don't," he agreed. "But while I'm in it for the time being you'll opt to keep quiet."

Ginny sniffed. "That's some nerve you've got, ordering me around."

Draco slammed his quill down on the table. "Well, I'm sorry that I don't sound as _lovely_ as Potter, no doubt you'd shut up without any qualms. All the same he probably enjoys those rare moments that you allow the slightest hint of quiet to reside in a room, and in that one respect I'm no different from Scarface."

Ginny blinked. "Nice rant, Malfoy. Could you do it again? I'd like to see if you could turn any redder this time."

With an exasperated sigh that showed his uncharacteristic lack of composure that day Draco went back to scribbling furiously. Ginny swore that she heard him mumble, "I don't turn red…stupid Weasley…" and she sniggered. This garnered another black look and she shrugged.

After about ten minutes of silence Ginny fished around in her book bag for her own parchment and quills. She had a few free periods during the week, but it wouldn't hurt to start work then.

Ginny quickly finished off a lingering Divination assignment that she had been putting off and unconsciously focused her attentions on the blond occupant of the room.

She regretted not having chosen Arithmancy with Lark and Colin. It was not that she was bad with numbers which Arithmancy involved, she reflected, merely that the mystique concerning Divination had always fascinated her, even if Trelawney was as big a fraud as they came…

Draco sat up and slowly rolled his neck. "Would you mind not staring holes into me? It's giving me a crick in the neck."

"Damn. I was trying to break it."

Draco only rolled his eyes and mumbled broodingly, while rubbing his hand over his face. Ginny saw a hint of a shadow on his features.

"Have seventh-year woes got you in a strop too? You're looking a bit haggard."

"I'm not in a _strop_, Weasley. I'm maintaining a steady focus on my goal. Seriousness is required," he told her with annoyance. "And if I look haggard it's only because I was trying to fit in with the other person around me." He gave her a pointed look.

Ginny blinked. "Anyway, since you've got a wad up your arse about exams, might you be able to convince Martin that you really need this time off to revise?"

"You don't think I tried that?" he snapped. "I saw her while I was coming into the room and asked her with the most sincerity I could summon up for her that I had better things to do than sit around and talk to _you_."

"And what did she say?"

"Well as I'm bloody well sitting here, what do you _think_ she said? Along with that she fed me utter crap about getting to know you, all the while practically shoving me in the room. I can honestly swear that I've never met anyone so attractive who could be so thoroughly trying aside from y – "

Ginny stiffened.

"Yeoman," he finished, drawing out the name very slowly. His and Ginny's eyes seemed to be magnetically targeted to each other. "An ex-girlfriend of mine."

Ginny frowned. "Yeoman's a male name."

"That's a rather sexist thing to assume."

"Malfoy…the name is Yeo – MAN. Does that signify nothing to you?"

Draco picked up his quill. "Yes; that her parents chose to break away from the norm."

"I don't believe you," Ginny insisted.

"Really? Well…" he frowned and then after a moment smiled. "Wait, nevermind. I thought that I was going to care for a second but then it passed like Goyle's farts in the wind."

Ginny's reddened but continued. "No, what were you going to say?"

Draco slammed his quill on the table. "What did you think I was going to say, hmm?" He eyed Ginny grippingly. "What did you _want_ me to say?"

She hated him. She hated how he was always trying to turn things onto her. Ginny knew inside, she _knew_ that he was about to say, "aside from _you_." But he stopped at the last moment. So now if she said what she knew he was going to say, he would say that she was delusional. And Ginny would agree with him. But that wouldn't change the fact that he found her attractive.

Neither would it change the fact that he refused to acknowledge it.

She was boiling inside. She _knew_ that he wanted to talk about Sunday afternoon; but he didn't want to be the one to broach the topic. It was so unfair! But she refused to appease him! She would not bring it up at all. He thought that she was predictable?

He thought _wrong_. He didn't know a damned thing. Stupid people knew a grand total of S.H.I.T.

And Ginny was just about to tell him exactly that when she saw the smug look on his face…maybe she was wrong…maybe he really did have an ex named Yeoman. Those aristocratic types were all the same, after all. Naming their children the most antiquated, obscure, _dull_ names as possible so as to sound dignified. Draco was an example of that. The name Draco was not desirable or alluring in any way, Ginny assured herself. Not at all.

"Forget it," she settled for saying. "It's only that it's a very…unique name." She went to rummage in her rucksack for more parchment to tackle another assignment. "Yeoman…" she muttered, shaking her head.

Draco tensed and forced himself to remain calm. She didn't believe a word that he said – and really, it was just as well because they were all lies, and stupid ones at that – but it left him feeling…on his guard. And that was more annoying than anything because he normally felt on his guard around her anyway, as she always had some smart-aleck comment to pop back at him.

Now he had to watch out for that odd feeling he got when he looked at her too long… the more he tried to forget it, the more it came back to him. Ginny's lips right near his own, her soft skin, her chocolaty taste…

He wondered if ordering ice cream into Hogwarts was permissible…

Probably not, he mused. It indulged in countless sexual fantasies. School was really no place for something as erotic as ice cream.

Draco looked away from Ginny and tried to concentrate on the essay he had started writing before Ginny came in the room. She had been partially right when she suggested that his patience was a bit more sparse than usual. Each teacher was piling work onto his or her seventh-years with the mindset that their work was the most important and should be completed to perfection. Any complaints fell on deaf and uncaring ears and would be thrown back at them.

Leaving his morning classes, Draco had been wryly grateful that he had time with Ginny in which to his work. Of course, if he didn't have the sessions, he would have studied anyway, perhaps in the library or the common room. However, the sight of Hermione's face behind every shelf available in the library had made it less desirable to be there. Pansy always liked to study off of him and was either sticking her face in his notes or demanding that he quiz her, meaning that he got no revision of his own done. Crabbe and Goyle simply sat there with their notes in front of them, hoping that miraculously it might become embedded into their brains.

Sometime during sixth-year he had decided to venture out into the school and search for private places where he might be able to look over his notes in peace or simply think from time to time. However, the constantly horny population of Hogwarts adolescents was also looking for private rooms, and more than once Draco had found places that he once thought secret, scandalously unavailable.

In a way it became a small blessing that his – and Ginny's room he admitted reluctantly – seemed to be exclusively for them. No longer did he have to dig into the far reaches of the castle for at least forty-five minutes of disturbance-free Draco time. It was rather nice knowing that it would be waiting for him, as he came to see when Ginny was in the Hospital Wing. It was rather nice knowing that when Ginny was released; she would be there to take his mind off things when he became too stressed out…

However, after his little lick the day before, he wondered if the room would have that same comfort. Ginny told him that she wanted to forget it, and he wanted to as well, very much.

It was just very difficult.

Draco scribbled a line down on his parchment.

'Yeoman…' he thought, frustrated. It really _was_ a crappy lie.

Only he had been about to say something so utterly unforgivable, that saying _anything_ was the better option.

"Miss her?"

Draco looked up at Ginny who had walked over to his chair and sat a foot away from him on the floor. "What?" he asked with a frown on his face.

Ginny summoned his parchment to her and pointed her quill at a section of it. "Your ex: Yeoman. You must still be pining over her."

Draco peered at the paper to see that he had written: _The _Cerratus Charm _reveals its most interesting effects when used on subjects such as Yeoman._

He frowned. "Do you make it a habit to read other people's parchment?" He asked, not using magic to obtain his homework back, but snatching it.

"Hey!" Ginny exclaimed, rubbing her hand although she hadn't been hurt.

Draco went back to writing. "Hay is for horses."

"And 'a' is for arseholes," Ginny grumbled. "I was bored and so I peeked at your work to see what kinds of stuff seventh-years learn. I must admit that I too find the subject of Yeoman very intriguing."

Draco said nothing.

"It's alright, I understand that you don't want to talk about it. Being dumped is rather hard on the soul."

"She didn't dump me," Draco informed Ginny snappishly. He was about to go on and say that it was a mutual agreement, but that sounded terribly fake, especially coming from him. "And I don't want to talk about it."

"I understand completely," Ginny said, looking at him in that infuriating way of hers.

"And there's no call for you to be so nosy. Who do you think you are? Professor Martin?"

Ginny turned her nose up at him. "Alright, alright, point taken…that was a low blow."

He huffed anyway and wrote something down. He was barely paying it any attention. "I figured as much. You don't exactly seem to like her."

"No more than _you_," Ginny rejoined. "And I don't _hate_ her per se…it's more of an irritation that makes me want to be back in the Hospital Wing with Madame Pomfrey hovering over me."

"And me coming to see you?" Draco grinned unkindly.

"You're the exception to the rule, Malfoy."

"Naturally." He paused. "Actually I had been hoping that you didn't mind being there too much. You see, after the rematch you're going to end up right back in the Hospital Wing – there's an upside, though, I promise," he told Ginny when he saw her ears start to redden with anger. "You'll have plenty of company. With all of your teammates there, it'll be more like a party than anything else."

"It's nice to know that after all this time you're so apologetic, you pointy faced cretin," Ginny told him contemptuously, gripping her quill tightly. "If I had hoped that some amount of decency managed to seep its way into your daylight-deprived body, I now know that I should be disappointed."

Draco only gave Ginny a look that told her he could care less what she said about him. "Anything goes in Quidditch; if you can't handle it, stay in the spectator stands."

"I shouldn't have to just because you're a filthy cheater!"

"There was nothing illegal about what I did," Draco stated calmly.

"You don't _do_ things like that in _school_ Quidditch!" Ginny shouted.

The blond blinked. "Look, you may consider yourself and your talents far below professional Quidditch standards, but that doesn't mean that –"

"You only wanted to win."

"That is usually the intention of playing on a team, Weasley. To make a name for yourself – "

"Yeah," she sneered. "B-a-s-t-a –"

"You're just bitter."

"_Me! I'm_ bitter?!" Ginny exclaimed. "_You're_ the one who tried to kill me just so that you could finally beat Harry Potter. How's that for sour grapes?"

Ginny saw that familiar pulse point ticking in Draco's neck. "Harry fucking Potter has _nothing_ to do with any of this," he said slowly.

"The hell he doesn't!" Ginny shouted, voice starting to get hoarse. "_He's_ the better Seeker! _He_ has the better team! You know, I'll even bet he's better in the sack, you foul –"

"Shut up…"

"Everyone loves him! _Everyone!_ I bet that secretly Snape loves him!"

"Shut up."

"Voldemort is probably carrying a top-secret torch for him!"

Draco blanched.

"Hermione and Ron, and Colin, and my parents love him! And I love him!"

"SHUT UP!"

Ginny gasped. Draco had left his spot on the couch and was now gripping her shoulders in his hands. He was kneeling on his clean trousers in a mess of papers that had tilted over when he sprang at her. His eyes were feverish and he was flushed and tense and shaking. Ginny could feel his hands trembling from the top of her shoulders where his fingertips ended. Even his hair was swaying faintly.

Aside from that he was so still that Ginny might have thought him a statue. He was glaring directly in her eyes and Ginny couldn't have looked away if she wanted to.

"I hate you," he whispered, and she knew that he meant it.

Draco knew that he meant it as well but couldn't control himself when one of his hands left her shoulders and moved to her face to trace a path up and down her jaw. He moved his thumb to caress her bottom lip.

He shook even more.

Then he parted her lips with his nail and Ginny could taste the saltiness of the pad of his thumb on her tongue. He moved his other hand to her hair and ran a hand through it as if he had wanted to do that for a long time. He made it brush her neck so that she could shiver, so that she could understand what he was feeling.

He wanted to touch her everywhere, and make her enjoy it until she thought that she was dying so she could understand how it felt when she violated him in the unexplainable way that she did.

"God I hate you," he told her.

Ginny didn't realize that she had been holding her breath for a while, but her body did and she breathed in deeply. He drew back at her movement and she was finally able to peel her eyes away.

Unsure of whether she meant it or not, Ginny looked down at the floor and tried to offer an apology. "I'm sorry…"

"Save it," Draco hissed. He got off the floor and Ginny felt a whip from the hem of his robes on her cheek.

She heard him pack his things away and snap his rucksack closed. "Save it for another fucking day."

He stumbled out of the room hoping that she didn't notice his ungainliness, his sudden lack of balance.

Draco all but ran to his common room, up to his dorm and shut the hangings of his four-poster. He put a Silencing Charm around his bed so that no one could hear his labored breaths.

He hated her. And he meant it with all his heart.

It was possible to hate someone as strongly as he did Ginny. To loathe their very existence while at the same time wanting to just…kiss them breathless. It was possible to feel disgust in his stomach at the prospect of seeing her at another session while at the same time lust stirred in another section. He was able to not care that she spent around a week in the Infirmary, but enjoy bickering with her when he was forced to visit. He could hate that she was someone who meant nothing to him, but after barely a kiss stay up late at night wishing that she were with him, holding him, touching him…

All of it had to be possible. Because if it wasn't, there was something very wrong with him, or he was overlooking something very vital.

* * *

Another one down; And here are the…

Replies: **lina** They do so much! That is one of my favorite parts of writing this fic. I'm glad you liked that bit, thanks for reviewing. **anime-babygurl** I'm glad you thought it was funny. I am seriously considering changing the secondary genre to humor. The only thing that stops me is a bit of drama that will come in the future. But even humor fics have drama, right? Anyway, yup, I do plan on having a bit of R/H interaction. They're way too much fun not to write about. **Numbly Breaking** Ginny telling Ron off in Ch.8 was one of the most fun times I've ever had writing a fic; seriously. So I'm really, really glad that you liked it. I'm also ecstatic that you liked Draco's little 'taste' of Ginny. I was worried that it might end up sounding like he slobbered on her or something (eww), but I didn't want to put the kiss scene there because I've got that planned out already… Thank you so much for all of your reviews. I really appreciate them. **Victoria27 **Yes, I have sucked you in! Thank you for your review. **mell8** I hope this was soon enough; thanks a lot for reviewing. **Luna Gypsy** I'm happy you like the story so much. Here's the next one! **Demented Furiae** I'm glad you liked it! Here it is! **Lithui** Thank you! Isn't vanilla a good flavor? My brother thinks it's really plain, but it's not! **Nikki** Thank you! **Dweeb** Sorry it took so long to read, some of the chapters _are_ kind of lengthy. Your review made me crack up. Thanks so much. **shelly2** Hehe, I have an evil spot for writing arguments, I'm glad you like them. **star123** Thanks for the review. (I love your name). There _was_ a lot of gryff stuff in the last chapter. There was a big chunk of it in this one too. But I promise that it'll become more D/G centered, although R/H will continue and Lark's own man troubles. **Yav aka Shibs** I think some of the insults come from years of oppression as a younger sister myself, lol. Only I couldn't use a lot of them to my older brother because we've got the same parents…but no matter! Thanks for the review! **rachel** Woo! Thanks!

Review! Review! It makes my heart sing!

- Femme


	11. Chapter Eleven

Author's Notes: 150 reviews…you guys are either brilliant or insane…lol. But seriously, from the bottom of my D/G loving heart thank you all sooooo sooooo much. Wow. And now on to the fic.

Disclaimer: I weep inside, for I only own the plot.

_Miss Cellophane_

* * *

The next day Ginny listlessly kicked a rock on the ground.

She followed the path it took her until she punted it so hard that it went out of range. Maybe if she were in better spirits she would have chased after it; however she was not in the mood, unless it was to chase someone away from her.

But of course there were other rocks, as she was outside in front of the castle. There was also an unusual amount of people lolling around, as the sixth-year Charms class had been cancelled when a seventh-year went into hysterics the period before during a quick revision of Banishing Charms.

When Ginny, Lark, and Colin had gone to Flitwick's room for their lesson, Ron hurriedly informed them of the situation. He said that it was only partially related to N.E.W.T. stress.

"You've got a free; Parvati Banished Flitwick out of the window," Harry had told them. Most of Ginny's class ran inside to room to take a peek out of the window and saw a tiny figure waddling agitatedly back up Hogwarts front steps.

"Is he hurt?" asked Lark.

"Nah," Ron assured them.

"Well he's not a Charms professor for nothing," Hermione said. "He slowed his fall using his wand."

"It was a logical question," Ron argued. "Flitwick's not exactly the bulkiest of fellows."

"You mean he's runty," Colin interjected.

"That 'runty' wizard is grading all of our exams and has just given you the period off," Hermione said.

Colin nodded. "Yes, Head Girl Hermione."

"Anyway, what happened is that he's dismissing it as 'Exam Anxiety', but it's _really_ because Seamus made an improper advance to Parvati, and she tried to Banish _him_. The only role that 'stress' played was that it made her aim iffy…and henceforth the flying Flitwick."

"You sound more like Fred and George everyday, Ron," Ginny told her brother.

He had the sense to not to smile when Hermione glared at him.

She wasn't finished. "And I won't be surprised if you break their dismal record and get negative N.E.W.T.s."

"What –"

"C'mon Lark," Ginny said to her friend.

Colin offered Ron an apologetic smile and followed the two sixth-year girls. Sounds of Hermione berating Ron for his tactlessness were heard in the distance as they headed for the main doors.

"I'm sure it meant nothing," Ginny told Lark fervently.

"I don't think that even Parvati would Banish someone without reason," replied Lark a bit more snappishly than she intended. "Look, I'm just going to walk around for a bit."

Ginny and Colin had nodded; to be perfectly honest, the redhead hadn't felt much like company anyway. Lark had gone to walk in the other direction by the far side of the lake and Colin followed her, wanting to retake some photos that he lost in the fire on Sunday.

That left some of Ginny's sixth-year class out on the wild grass of the castle, imposing on students who naturally had free periods during that time anyway. Ginny stayed away from them for the most part, though. She found another rock and kicked it, pretending that it had silky blond hair and a face.

She should have bitten him, Ginny thought resolutely.

Where did he ever get off touching her? What the hell kind of sick obsession did he have with her mouth? And telling her that he hated her?

As if she didn't despise him just as much!

He made her so _sick_…

She should have just bitten him and let him die on Martin's floor. Then she could have run away and told the woman that she had found him that way.

Ginny had gone on to her Arithmancy class after Monday's lunch and fouled up most of her calculations. Professor Vector had spoken to her after class about her uncharacteristic distractedness and gave her extra homework. Ginny assured him that she would be on track next class, and that she was only feeling a bit out of sorts, muttering something about the weather and head injuries. Afterward, Ginny tried to be as natural as possible in Muggle Studies with Colin and Lark, as she didn't want to let on why she was walking around like a zombie. Despite her best efforts, they noticed, though she was successful in deferring any explanations. They didn't force her to speak about it as they understood it had something to do with meeting Draco; they most likely wrote it off as the usual. They were so wrong.

By the end of Monday, Ginny had dutifully finished up her assignments, including the extra one even though she wouldn't have Arithmancy again until Wednesday, and trooped up to bed with a quiet goodnight, too emotionally wrung out to be hearty.

Tuesday morning, though, Ginny resolved that she had been being thick the day before by acting so maudlin. She told Draco that she was sorry (even though it wasn't very authentic…) and if he couldn't accept it that was his problem. That still didn't give him the right to touch her the way he had and then leave. You didn't do that to people; you followed through.

Unlike Saturday, it was something she couldn't forget no matter how much she tried to put it out of her mind. She had seen in his eyes that he wanted her…hadn't she?

Or had he been imagining that she was _Yeoman_?

She could have _strangled_ him…!

"Hey! Who threw that?!"

Ginny scuttled away as fast as she could without looking suspicious. She had just booted her Draco-rock into the back of someone's head who had been relaxing on the ground.

Finding a more private section Ginny ambled along in her angry stupor without kicking any more dirt. When she tired of that she dropped gracelessly to the ground behind a thick stone formation that must have once been as large as Hagrid's hut, but had now decayed from neglect into a structure with only three walls no taller than Harry.

Ginny closed her eyes in mortification. She had said that she loved Harry.

And she meant it…just not in the way that he might think. Harry was all right, and he shared the same sarcastic humor that Ginny did, but she didn't get all…crazed thinking about him as she did with…other people.

And she knew why.

It was because Draco Malfoy was a psychotic, presumptuous prick that spread his disease of mania and confusion onto her. He belonged in quarantine somewhere very far away from Ginny for his own safety.

Ginny laughed angrily. He wouldn't even admit outright that he was going to say that he found her attractive. What kind of dumbass tried to deny something like that when it was _painfully_ obvious?

If it were possible Ginny would have avoided her own eyes.

She didn't like him. She didn't like the way he made fun of her for being seriously injured due to his teammates following _his_ orders. To be honest there were _many_ things that she didn't enjoy about him. And she had gone over them many times the night before ad nausea. However it was becoming undeniable that there were things she found irresistible about him.

Well, for starters, she had been peeking at his notes more than she let on in "The Room", and from what she could tell, he was a very diligent student. He had nice handwriting, in a scrawly kind of elegance (or maybe it was simply that his quill was running out) and his notes were detailed and intelligent - aside from the line where he mentioned Yeoman, his imaginary girlfriend (Another point for the bad side for the whole fake girlfriend hoax. She hadn't believed him for a second).

On the less academic side, he had a lot of confidence. That almost went onto the negative side, however confidence wasn't always all bad.

What else?

He was, er…Ginny thought of a way to say it as plainly as possible.

He was beautiful. His face seemed rather pointed sometimes, but it only enhanced the general aura of sharpness about him that she found delectable.

And he had beautiful eyes, which were entirely another story…

And he had wonderful, _wonderful_ hands that, Merlin save her, would be the end of her.

Just thinking about them made Ginny have to clench the grass in her fists and make a diligent effort to breathe evenly.

She wanted him.

Her face screwed up in disgust. She wanted him badly and she would go to hell for it unless she sorted her thoughts out properly and made sense of it all. Maybe she would discover that other, less insane boys also had nice, long fingers and beautiful eyes and were sexy. She needed someone to tell her that under no circumstances should she even _contemplate_ being attracted to Draco Malfoy; that she should never, _ever_ touch or be touched by him again, even if he were the last person on the _entire_ planet. And there were no sheep.

Ginny rolled over onto her stomach. Trying to ignore it only made things worse. Initially, the session had started off rather well considering that Ginny chose a couch behind him so that she couldn't stare at him too much, and that they tried to piss the other off as much as possible. After half an hour things went downhill from there. They started to mention "the unsafe topics", such as Draco's thugs putting her in the Hospital Wing, Voldemort, and worse, Harry.

Ginny knew that once they admitted that they wanted each other, they could be much more cordial. He was rather comical sometimes and she liked that about him as well. (Another point for the good side)

She just wanted someone to _tell_. That had always been her problem. She needed someone to confide in. It had backfired in her first year, but after that she had gotten friends: Lark and Colin. Nonetheless she couldn't tell them about this. Lark had her own problems and Colin would laugh and then become very concerned when he saw that Ginny wasn't joking. And most of all she was afraid that they would think she had caught Draco's weird disease as well. They might very well abandon her. Ginny wanted to abandon herself.

If only she didn't enjoy the way it felt when he touched her…

But it was too late to wish for that. The situation needed to be confronted head on.

The first step was breaking the silence.

And so, feeling very much like a fool, but knowing that it would give her well needed relief and peace of mind, Ginny cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered to the grass, "I wouldn't completely, one-hundred percent mind it if Draco Malfoy and I fooled around. Just one time of course. And that would be it. It would never happen again. I swear. I don't even want to all that much…just a lot more than desperately and a bit less than immeasurably…"

And that was how he found her; whispering frantically to the grass as if her life depended on it. He noticed that just before she kicked him in the shin.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was not going to Transfiguration.

He knew that he was going to get it from McGonagall unless he came up with a very good excuse later on, because he knew that she would not take to, "I was pissed the fuck off" very well.

Initially he had all intentions of going to class; it was what you did when you were a student and had one of the most important exams of your life coming up. However when he saw that the mainly Gryffindor–Hufflepuff N.E.W.T. class had been in an uproar and that the sixth-years' class was cancelled, Draco saw no reason for him to be miserable in Transfiguration. The sixth-year Gryffs were getting a one off, so why shouldn't he? He deserved it more than they did anyway.

At first he went to the library, but it was too quiet for his tastes just then. What he wanted was distraction, not a death-like silence imposed by Madam Pince. So he headed for the room that always afforded him the luxury of getting his mind off things. Entering it, he sat down for a few minutes on the couch where Ginny had been sitting the day before and closed his eyes.

He could hear her screaming that even Voldemort was in love with Harry.

Doubtful. Very doubtful.

He could see her eyes sparking with anger and recalled when she said that even she loved Harry.

That was less doubtful.

He supposed that she did in fact love Potter – in the same way that Granger loved Potter. But he didn't want to do the same things to Hermione Granger that he did to Ginny Weasley. One was disturbing enough, thank you very much.

Draco shifted on the couch.

He really couldn't care one way or the other. It was her life that she was wasting away by pining over Harry Potter. After the first few sessions she had made it very clear to him that she _didn't_ feel that way for the Boy-Who-Lived, so the fact that she said it in such a frivolous way for the sole reason of evoking his anger made Draco want to scream.

Draco sighed fitfully.

Her hair was longer than he had speculated – not as long as Pansy's, but full and vibrant. He remembered her shivering when it brushed her neck and the soft flush that bloomed by her collarbone and disappeared into the depths of her regulation white shirt. Thinking of how forward he had been with someone who he told he hated made him want to cringe.

He was surprised that she hadn't bitten him when his fingers caressed her mouth.

The blond shook his head and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Classes had seemed rather mundane after his session with Ginny. He had finished them up dutifully, just wanting to go to bed, but even when he pulled the sheets over him sleep hadn't come for a while. What he needed was action. He decided to take a walk outside.

Opening the main doors, Draco was suddenly glad that he usually had class at that hour of the day: there were people all over the place, he realized frowning. But action and activity was what he wanted, and it was what he got so he began to stroll aimlessly around the grounds.

There were a few Ravenclaws playing Exploding Snap on the grass and he glared at them when he caught their eye. For supposedly intelligent people, it should have occurred to them that if a spark hit the grass, Hogwarts might go up in flames.

He snorted at the mental image and ventured farther away from the throng, heading for a secluded stone structure only a few feet away where he could relax. In a way it was nice to take advantage of the very last days of summer.

On approaching he thought he saw long legs sticking out from behind the structure. They weren't moving in any way and he wondered remotely if the person had passed out or something.

Coming slowly closer Draco saw a lone figure talking to the grass, some of which had become entangled in her hair and on her clothes. His eyes traversed down from the top of her read hair to where it ended, and then down her back where there was more grass scattered on it. Lastly he took note of the bunched up skirt riding high on her thighs. He wondered if she was cold at all; it wasn't as warm as it had been on the day of the Hogsmeade visit…He didn't realize that he had been walking steadily closer to her, because when he made a noise in his throat at thinking of that day, one of her feet shot up and hit him in the shin.

He swore loudly and clutched his leg while Ginny quickly flipped over onto her back and jumped to her feet.

"What the hell were you doing?" she questioned in alarm, looking at his hunched form.

"Walking," he managed to grit out.

"You were spying on me!"

"Well, it's just that I've never seen anyone speak with dirt before and I was curious as to what it had to say," he taunted.

Ginny put her hands on her hips. "Right now it's telling you to shove off, I think."

He finished rubbing his sore leg and stood up fully. "You're mad."

"Takes one to know one," Ginny retorted childishly.

Draco made an angry noise, took one last look at Ginny and then stormed off. Ginny watched him leave, brushed herself off and cursed in a low voice.

So much for moving forward.

* * *

Ginny went on to enjoy a rousing class of Potions and with genuine relief went to lunch. Lark was still in heavy spirits, but they were lessening as Colin tried with great effort to be cheery. It was as funny as it was disturbing and it took Ginny's mind off of Draco issues.

Ginny listened as Colin prattled on about how he wished that they really had a free at that time of day.

"The light fell behind this one tree in an amazing way. I got a picture of that area before, but this one is actually better than the other; I think the first picture was taken around seven o'clock, so it's really different but still nice."

Lark nodded. "Show us the pictures as soon as you develop them. Maybe this time you should make some extra copies, so that if something else should ever happen you won't have to go through this again."

"Yeah, you were kind of homicidal yesterday," Ginny added.

"Still am," assured Colin.

In the next moment Ginny caught sight of a tall redhead loping for their table with Hermione's books in his hands. He was talking animatedly to a black-haired boy who was also carrying a heavy load.

Ron was clearly getting caught up in what they were speaking of and forgot momentarily about the objects in his arms. They dropped loudly to the floor. Hermione came rushing in and bent down to help Harry and Ron pick them up.

They were close enough to the table that Ginny could hear Hermione say, "You really didn't have to carry them, Ron. I can carry my own books."

"Not when you're nose deep in another pile in a different section of the library," said Harry.

"We were waiting there for at least half-an-hour just for you to dig yourself out," Ron added. "We would have died there among all those archaic texts if we didn't leave when we did."

"If you had helped me look for that book instead of sat at the table and talked about whatever you were talking about we wouldn't have been late to lunch."

"We would have missed it completely or only had enough time to sniff it as the elves put it away."

"And here I was thinking that you two were made of sterner stuff," Hermione said waspishly. "Now I see that you'll cry if you don't get your formula on time."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Your books aren't exactly feather-light, Hermione; so don't complain. You would have nagged at us had we not picked them up."

"I would not have! _I_ would have had the sense to charm them so they weighed less!"

Ron and Harry reddened as they realized that they lost the argument.

"Forget it," said Harry. "Let's just eat quickly so we can get all of this finished."

Hermione walked stiffly to the table. "Well as you've brought the books anyway, we may as well have a look at them now."

"This really isn't right!" Ron told her angrily.

"No one told you to do the same! Only don't ask me to translate it for you later."

As the three seventh-years passed by Ginny she asked them, "Finally caught the seventh-year blues?"

"Don't want to talk about it," they all said shortly and kept walking.

Harry let the old texts fall loudly on the table and received a glare from Hermione. He gave her one right back and sat next to Ron. "I don't care if Madam Pince catches a fit because they're soiled. I'm sure that you'll find some chore for us to do that'll clean it right off."

The Head Girl's eyes flashed at him and she went to tell the raven-haired boy off but Ron interrupted with a discontented, "I'm starving. Shut up and eat."

Ginny, Lark and Colin exchanged surprised looks and went back to picking at their food.

"I'm really not looking forward to next year," stated Lark. "No one can stand anyone else for more than five minutes."

"Let's not talk about seventh-year," suggested Colin. "There's enough misery in the air as it is. What we need is to just have a good laugh before we all go mental; we're still sixth-years, we should enjoy our N.E.W.T. free year for as long as possible."

Lark smiled a bit forlornly at the blond and looked around absently. Ginny fell to doing the same. "Yeah; sixth-year is _fun_," she said drearily.

Nothing of interest was happening. There was a glowering Hufflepuff who sneezed on someone…There was a glum Ravenclaw who was studying a rather large chart…There was a blond Slytherin staring right back at her…

Ginny's eyes opened in surprise and then closed on a scowl. What right did _he_ have staring at her?

All the same, instead of looking away as she usually would have done, Ginny thought of Colin's words. Yeah…it was her sixth-year. She shouldn't let other people's misery project onto herself; she shouldn't allow herself to feel victimized by an angry seventh-year. She should have some fun…

And so Ginny lifted an eyebrow and licked her lips slowly. She saw Draco scowl at her and Ginny rallied against herself not to smirk. Picking up her fork, she put it to her mouth and licked it with the tip of her tongue. Draco stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth with less refinement than usual.

Ginny snickered inwardly. So he was hungry now, eh?

Still looking at the blond, Ginny speared a piece of roast chicken and brought it to her mouth with considerable grace. Then, with narrow eyes she viciously tore it apart with her teeth.

She swore that he looked scared for a moment. She _swore_ it.

But then he looked away and went back to chewing his dry bread. He hadn't even bothered to butter it.

"You know, watching you is like watching a Muggle soap opera."

Ginny turned her head to look at Colin, her hair obstructing her side view to the Slytherin table.

"A _what_?" Ginny asked.

Lark laughed a little. "You remember – those shows on the television with the actors? We studied them last year I think."

"Ohh…" said Ginny slowly. "The ones with all the drama; where the man found out that he was in love with his sister who was separated at him from birth, but she was really in love with his uncle, right?"

The raven-haired girl laughed a little more. "Sure."

"Why do you say that, Colin?" Ginny asked her sandy-haired friend.

He chuckled. "Well, just now, your eyes got all dark and shadowy and you were fondling your fork with your tongue. Then you sort of attacked your chicken."

"I did not!" declared the redhead, feeling her ears heat up.

"It's okay, Ginny!" He told her. "That naughty, naughty fork…it was carrying on an affair with the chicken, wasn't it? Didn't your mother ever tell you to beware of the poultry? It'll steal your seasoning, then it'll steal your man!"

Lark was now dying of amusement. She went to say something but broke off in a loud snort and almost went as red as Ginny. Although she tried hard not to, Ginny began to laugh at Lark who had covered her nose and mouth when the snort sounded. She fell sideways on Colin who tried to disguise his mirth, but was shaking with it.

"So am I only sloppy seconds?"

Ginny put her hand over her mouth like her friend, but it did no good.

"HAAA!" she practically bellowed.

Half of the heads in the room turned in their direction.

Lark and Ginny simultaneously threw a hand over Colin's mouth to shut him up, as if somehow it would stifle their own laughter when Ron shouted from further down, "Oy! Sixth-years! No hanky-panky, some of us are trying to revise!" And he went back to copying Hermione's notes.

Lark, Ginny, and Colin heard nothing of his pronouncement after the words "hanky-panky" due to their hysteria.

"Maybe…maybe we should get out of here," Ginny wheezed. "It's gotten a bit chilly in here." Hermione was indeed glaring at them.

"This isn't the library, Hermione," Harry said to the girl. "Let _someone_ have fun."

She huffed and turned away from him to Ron.

"They're already leaving," he said in defense of his sister and his friends, trying not to inspire either of his best friend's ire. He knew that Harry was irritated with him – and rightly so. It had actually been Ron's idea to take Hermione's books for her; Ginny had instructed him to do something nice for her, and he did. However at the last minute he became a little nervous and suggested that Harry take some of the load as well. Then Hermione had yelled at the both of them for doing something that was Ron's idea. Most likely, Harry would never again carry a book that was not his own. Whatever girl he dated in the future would be very sore about that.

Hermione started to argue, but when she looked at Ginny, Colin, and Lark's previous place at the table, it was empty, and all that was left was a last loud laugh and red hair whipping out of the Great Hall doors.

* * *

Part of the fun about being in a bad mood was that when it started to rise, you were on a euphoric plane and everything seemed much better all of a sudden. Ginny supposed that it was probably much like having make-up sex, or on a tamer level, a make-up snog session with one's boyfriend.

She, Colin, and Lark might have been a _tad_ unfair to Hermione by being so raucous at lunch; nonetheless it was as Harry said: they weren't in the library.

As Ginny and Lark played a game of Exploding Snap (Colin would get to play whoever received the most damage), the redhead found herself smiling once more.

"I'm glad you made all those brainless jokes," Ginny said to Colin while eyeing the unmoving deck in front of her. "Lark's face was starting to look rather strained from all that frowning."

"You're one to talk," said Lark. "You were all quiet yesterday afternoon and this morning; at least you both know my reason for being that way."

"Yes, Seamus-the-stupid-head," Colin said.

"Don't forget Parvati," Ginny added, trying to stray from the topic of her previous sour countenance.

Lark looked thoughtful and Ginny warned her not to be so complacent, the deck would explode on her if she weren't watchful.

"Isn't the aim of the game to _win_, Ginny?"

Ginny was forcibly reminded of the similarity of Lark's remark to Draco's concerning Quidditch from the day before. She put a card down and the pile began to tremble slightly. "And anyway, I really don't know if we should blame this whole thing on Parvati …Granted she still flirts with Seamus even though I went to Hogsmeade with him, but she's not to blame for all of this. I mean honestly, I shouldn't use her as a scapegoat for my frustration with Seamus."

"You may of course be right," Colin said. "But you haven't even bothered to ask around for the real story."

Lark threw a card on the pile and it continued to shake ominously. "I'm not a reporter, Colin."

"No, but you're one of the cleverest people I know, and also one of the most level-headed –"

He watched as the pile began to hiss with smoke and began to move back, about to issue a warning to the girls. However, he was farther back than they, and so they only very nearly escaped the full brunt of the card explosion. When the smoke cleared Colin looked at the girls in wonderment. It had never occurred to him how strange Lark might look with no eyelashes.

He glanced over at Ginny who was rubbing smoke out of her eyes.

"You've been restored to your true nature," he told her. Lark looked over and laughed, although not many people would have laughed at someone else when they had no eyelashes.

"What are you going on about?" the redhead grumbled. "That smoke went right in my eyes, you know. I've always liked Exploding Snap, but that's the one thing I hate about it. I usually lure someone else in front of me before it explodes, but alas, Ron isn't here." She patted her skirt down idly. "So what am I missing?" Her eyebrows furrowed and Lark laughed even more.

"Part of your eyebrows," said an amused Colin.

Ginny waved it off. "That's pretty much the usual, so Lark wins."

"But it's really interesting. They're all forked and weird, you look a bit evil."

Ginny's mouth twitched and she pulled out a blank sheet of parchment and tapped it with a complicated jab and poke of the wrist so that it became a compact mirror. When she saw it she burst into laughter until all three of them were pointing at each other.

Just then Ron, Harry, and Hermione came in.

"_Really_ –"

Ron stopped dead in his tracks and his eyes went to Lark and then his sister. "What the devil happened to you two?"

They only went on laughing.

Ron exchanged troubled glances with a stressed looking Hermione and an envious Harry who wished that he were in their place. "No seriously, though, you look like some sort of demon, Ginny. And did you know that your eyes have gone bald, Lark?"

Lark covered her face with her hands so that she could shake in peace, but the seventh-year wouldn't leave her alone. Ron patted her twice on the back awkwardly.

"About what I said this morning…I hope it didn't cause any…er, longstanding enmity between us…" Hermione tapped her foot pointedly at him. "Oh, and I'm a prat."

But Ginny shook her head dramatically. "Oh, Ron," Ginny gasped. "It was terrible! Lark got in a fight with Parvati!" she gestured over to the girl in a different area of the Gryffindor common room who had no idea that she was being inserted into a nefarious scheme.

Ron paled. "Surely not over what I said?" he said in a strangled sort of voice; Ginny nodded emphatically. He looked at Colin for verification.

The boy smiled sadly. "It was awful."

"But then why are _your_ eyebrows forked that way, Ginny?" he asked.

"Well I was her second, of course. Patil took Lark down, and then me, and then next was Colin…" but by this point Ginny could not carry the charade on for any longer. Her eyes were already watering with suppressed shots of laughter. "But Colin…" her face was red with laughter and Ron stood up from his crouched position and scowled at them all, "He…really took her down for us. Thanks, Col." The three sixth years fell in a screeching heap of laughter.

The tall redhead was not impressed. "Let's go sit somewhere else," said Ron, miffed.

"I think he wants to hang our heads with the Quidditch equipment," chuckled Colin as he saluted Harry, the only person who found the stunt at all funny and was smiling longingly at them.

"Want to be a part of the fun group, Harry?" Ginny asked, nursing herself to be fit for company once more.

He sighed. "I wish, but Hermione would hex me something awful. Anyway, before I forget, there's an early morning practice tomorrow. Ron and I'll tell you the rest of the practice schedule tomorrow, but be on the pitch by five-thirty, no later than five-thirty-five."

"Harry, that's ridiculous!"

"You don't want to win?" he asked darkly, summoning his Quidditch Captain aura.

"Well of _course_ I do, but –"

"And are you allowed to be out there again? Has Pomfrey said 'no' to sports?"

"Yes I am, and no she hasn't, but don't you think five-thirty's rather ea –"

"Great, then be there," Harry ordered, and went to join his friends.

Ginny threw her hands up in the air. "When it comes down to things like Quidditch, Harry and Ron are completely irrational. I want vengeance on the Slytherins, but my bed wants _me_!"

"We can't always get what we want, Ginny," Lark informed her.

"Oh quiet, you," said the redhead. "And yes we can. Go over to Parvati and tell her to back off or else."

"Ginny!"

"Well, fine, not that, but ask her what happened this morning." Lark hesitated. "Go on!"

The girl dragged herself to her feet and with a menacing look back at her friends went over to where Lavender Brown and Parvati were sitting, chatting over assignments. Ginny and Colin watched as the two older girls looked up and Lavender gestured enthusiastically for Lark to sit when Parvati only stared at her face. Not even fifteen minutes later Lark dragged herself back over to her friends.

"They didn't even hesitate to tell me what happened; I think it was because my lack of eyelashes scared them. Right; so Lavender said that Seamus didn't really mean to grab Parvati. He had Banished his quill onto her…er…bum, and made a move to get it before she thought that he was aiming things at her. But he wasn't very subtle inconspicuous in retrieving it…"

"Does Parvati corroborate that?" asked Colin.

"Only after Lavender told the story."

"So are you still going to make a play for Seamus?"

"I don't know…maybe…We've still got that next Hogsmeade weekend going on, so I'll just see how the wind blows until then."

"As long as you're okay with that," Ginny made her friend promise. "If it just doesn't feel right, then maybe…"

"Maybe it isn't?" Lark finished; Ginny shrugged lamely. "I wouldn't mind being just friends with him, you know."

Ginny and Colin blinked. "Well of course _more_ is better, but we can talk really easily now, so it's as if we're friends anyway."

Lark stood up suddenly, looking at her watch and bumped into Dean Thomas who was behind her.

"Oh, sorry!" she said.

"No harm done," replied Dean with an easy smile. He walked around the dark-haired girl and out through the portrait.

"We're going to be late!" Lark continued.

Ginny tried to see the time in the large grandfather clock in the corner of the common room, but there were a few people bustling around it.

"How much time until we're late?" she asked slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Two seconds time," answered Lark, already half out.

Colin groaned.

"Feel like a detention, then?" she asked him.

"Teacher's pet," he grumbled.

* * *

He was going to have to avoid her. There was really nothing else for it.

His pride screamed angrily at him that confronting the situation head on would be the best way to get rid of it, however, the few times that he had tried, he had also come close to laying her out on the floor and making out with her.

And under no circumstances would that be allowed.

Draco plowed a heavy hand through his hair and thought absently that it needed to be cut. His senses were on 'alert' as he had yet to go to McGonagall and explain why he had not gone to class, and he didn't want to run into her just yet. Madam Pomfrey had become much stingier with sick passes, making it much harder to obtain one for truancy. The only thing that he could tell the Transfiguration professor was that he had been indisposed and returned back to his room, hoping that it was not serious enough to warrant a stay in the Hospital Wing. He would find out what he had missed in class and make it up and before she knew it, he'd be back on track, blah, blah, blah…

If it were Harry Potter who had missed class she would no doubt have enlisted the help of Dumbledore to find him and then let him off for missing his classes due to his mentally disturbed state. Draco's glower intensified as he walked through the halls. In reality that would not be true, McGonagall would be fair and ream Potter out for missing class.

That only served to make Draco more irritated. Who did McGonagall think she was, being fair to everyone? He couldn't even be angry with her in peace, now. At least Snape had his priorities straight. Snape was as no-nonsense as they came; however he understood the intricacies of Slytherin. He understood the loyalty and honor code (much different from that of Gryffindor's) that they stood for.

Snape would look down on Draco for letting a Weasley distract him.

That was why the direct approach was important. He would sit down and _talk_ or something, with the Littlest Weasley; explain that he had had a passing fancy about…certain things…with her; she would laugh it off and make it all seem very silly and stupid of him. After, they could go back to wherever they had left before all the weirdness started to come in.

The direct approach was best.

BAM!

Draco came to register that his books were all over the floor mixed in with those of the person he had been thinking of. The two of them stood there for a second before quickly kneeling down to pick them up.

"This yours?" Ginny mumbled.

"Give it here; this one's yours," Draco said in the same tone.

"That's my parchment."

"That's my quill."

"Sixth-year Potions book?"

"That's mine too."

"Don't bump into me again."

"If you promise that as well."

They looked at each other for a moment, noting separately that their faces were only a few inches apart.

"Ginny, did he give you all your stuff back? We're late."

The redhead's neck turned behind her quickly. "Oh. Right." She stood up quickly and saw that Draco did the same. They slung their packs over their shoulders and brushed off quickly.

And without another word Ginny walked past Draco and he walked down the opposite side of the hall. Ginny walked to her next class in between her two best friends, wanting to turn around and take a peek down the hall - just to make sure that she hadn't left anything behind of course. But as much as she wanted to, all she remembered was the look on Draco's face the day before, his words. That was enough to make her keep facing forward.

* * *

Ginny moaned loudly and mournfully as she peeled off the crust of her toast and arranged it to make a face on her plate.

Lark and Colin looked on amused as Harry pointedly carried on his conversation with Ron and Hermione. Ginny stared daggers at the side of the green-eyed boy's face and then with more volume released a sorrowful wail.

One side of Harry's lips turned up, but his face betrayed nothing as he turned to Ginny.

"Is there something wrong?"

Ginny's eyes went large and innocent; she seemed to shrink into herself as she looked at Harry.

"What? Oh, with me? No, nothing, Captain." Harry nodded and went to turn back to his conversation but Ginny went on. "Only that I can't move even my pinky toe without experiencing earth-shattering pain and that tomorrow I shall be a colossal, black and blue mess what with bruises and swelling."

Harry froze. "Do you hear that, Ginny?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Not unless it's the sound of one of my blisters popping."

Lark grimaced. "Eww…"

"Why…why it's the world's smallest violin playing your lament in e-minor."

Ron snickered. "Do you even know how e-minor would sound, Harry?"

"Something like Ginny's whining."

"You two could be a little more sensitive," Hermione rebuked. "Ginny's only gotten out of the Hospital Wing recently and her body is still healing. Are you sure that you _didn't_ work her too hard this morning? When she came into breakfast she was about to fall on her face from fatigue."

Colin tutted. "Mm, not quite; actually she tripped on her shoelace."

Ginny looked like she wanted to dunk Colin's head in the pitcher of water that was nearby. "I would have remembered to tie it had I not been fatigued!"

"Fatigue, schmatigue," Ron said taking a bite of his own food.

Ginny looked to Lark for help from the torrent of unsympathetic Gryffindor but found none.

"I thought you liked hardcore practices."

"I _do_," Ginny said. "I think it was the new plays that threw me off time and again…literally…"

"I think it was the head in the clouds act you had going on," Ron refuted. "I mean, how d'you expect to see where you're going by looking at the sky? The rain clouds aren't going to pass you the quaffle. Keep it up and you'll never get your revenge on Malfoy, Ginny."

Ginny forced herself not to tell Ron to shut his trap. If anything, _that_ was why she hadn't been playing to her full potential that morning. All practice he had been saying things like that.

"Miss the quaffle again, Ginny? Malfoy's not going to let the Slytherins do that."

"Fumble a pass, Ginny? Those snakes'll eat you up if you do that during the rematch."

At one point Ron had shouted at her when the quaffle hit his head instead of going into Sebastian's hands; Ginny didn't let that one bother her as, secretly the quaffle had hit its intended target.

She knew that Ron would only say those things if he was sure that she was no longer in death's clutches, he was trying to juice her up and get her excited for the rematch. No one understood why Ginny wasn't as filled with adrenaline at the prospect of scoring a goal against the Slytherin keeper and shoving a Gryffindor victory in their face. She assured them that she _was_. She _really_ was.

She wanted it more than they did.

Ginny wanted it so badly that she had reached a plateau of calm about the rematch. She was fully confident that once she was in sync with the other Chasers on the new plays, Slytherin would be lucky to escape with all their limbs, forget about their pride – it would be demolished.

With that killer mentality, Ginny stood up without a word to head once more for her meeting with Draco. She would show him that she was worth something, and not just a recurring joke about falling off of one's broom. She walked assuredly out into the hall and was presented with the opportunity to begin proving her worth, as Draco was only a few steps in front of her. Although the doors closed loudly behind him he ignored the sound, probably thinking that whoever had just exited was not worth his time.

Ginny watched him walk at a slow saunter, wondering if she should hurry up to him or just follow behind. After a moment's thought she decided on the former, as the latter might be mistaken for stalking.

So coming up at a medium pace Ginny found herself right at the back of Draco's shoulder and cleared her throat a little to get his attention. Draco looked over his shoulder, stopped walking for a second; when he noticed who it was and then resumed heading for The Room. Ginny paced tensely beside him, not knowing what to say. On the day of the infamous Hogsmeade weekend, it had been easy to walk down the hall with him – they were arguing. Now, neither wanted to speak first.

Ginny tilted her head up as discreetly as possible to glance at Draco's profile; her heart began to beat a little faster as her confession to the grass played in her mind.

When they finally arrived, Ginny sat on her favorite seat and put her hands in her lap; she watched Draco sit down as well. They sat in total silence, each alternately sneaking peeks when they the other wasn't looking.

After five minutes Ginny threw her hands up in the air and with a straight back, faced the blond fully.

"We should talk."

He looked at her evenly. "About what?"

Ginny remained calm. "I don't know where to begin, but we've got to start somewhere. Maybe about how I was thinking that both of us should approach Martin and explain that oil and water connect better than we do –"

"I'm sure you know what her answer will be; it doesn't matter what you thought –"

"I do recall that I said '_was_ thinking', so to hear what I'm thinking _now_, shut up and sit tight," Ginny snapped. Draco breathed in and out through his nose and then sat back.

"Aye, aye," he muttered sarcastically.

"Right. Okay. I'm…I'm thinking that we should try…to make this work. I mean, Monday, before then end, things were going sort of okay, weren't they?"

Draco remained silent, so Ginny went on.

"It only went wrong when you brought up the whole Quidditch incident; more specifically the _way_ you brought it up –"

"I was making a statement."

"You were being a dickhead."

"What do you want from me? An apology?"

"That wouldn't go far amiss," Ginny said dryly.

"I won't do that; I didn't do anything wrong," Draco argued.

"What's wrong is that you don't care! You don't have any respect for me –!"

"Just think of it this way, Weasley," Draco interrupted. "I ordered a Centered Attack and it was successful, but you ended up in the Hospital Wing – no one won the game. Now think of this scenario: I order a Centered Attack; my Beaters are wholly incompetent and miss you, you score a goal and _win_ the game. In both scenarios I've told my players to do the same thing. Had the latter come true would you have cared?"

Ginny's mouth was still open from when she was interrupted, but now she had nothing to say.

Draco nodded. "That's what I thought."

Ginny closed her mouth and processed what he had said, and the truth was that he was right. No one would have cared at all had she not gotten hit and Gryffindor won the game. Plus, in the common room celebration party Draco would have probably been made fun of for calling an unsuccessful maneuver.

"So if that's what you've been holding against me all this time, I give you leave to let it go as I've proven that I'm right and you're wrong," Draco said, breaching the silence.

"Don't get ahead of you," Ginny hurried on. "There's still plenty of stuff to bring against you."

"Do you dream of tormenting me, Weasley?"

"Every night," Ginny said smirking. It faltered a bit as she thought of the other way that could be interpreted. However, Draco didn't seem to view it the way her own twisted mind did, so Ginny bypassed that thought.

It was strange, she found herself thinking, how much lighter the atmosphere around them seemed now that the whole Quidditch incident had been cleared up. No matter how much she was attracted to Draco, the one main blockade that had stopped her from liking him at all was that he didn't seem to care about her getting hurt. Now that Ginny understood his way of thinking about it, she was free to do whatever she wanted with him…

Draco noticed with interest that the tips of Ginny's ears were turning pink for some reason.

"What's all that for?" Draco asked.

"Hmm, what?" Ginny said croakily.

"The redness, idiot." With almost next to no hesitation he traced her ear. It only made it worse. Draco realized that he was most likely making Ginny uncomfortable by touching her – he was getting some rather…uncomfortable feelings as well – but he deemed it a reward for putting up with her. Why shouldn't he get to touch her? For strictly innocent purposes, of course. "Are you allergic to reconciliation?"

Ginny stared at him. "You call this reconciliation? All we agreed to is that you're not a complete monster."

"You're right; we haven't gotten to the part where we prove that _you're_ not."

"Thin ice, Malfoy."

"Ice is my specialty," said Draco silkily.

Ginny took one look at him and burst out laughing. "If you could have sounded any more cliché than that I would have eaten this chair."

"I would've liked to see you try."

"I would have choked and died; would that have _amused_ you?"

He shrugged, and his hand fell away from the side of her face. "Just because you think we're _pals_ now doesn't mean I'm any less malicious."

"I don't think we're _pals_!"

"What are we then?" Draco asked, voicing one of his many thoughts from the past few weeks aloud. There were many things he wouldn't mind…He mentally slapped himself. Yes, he would mind. He would mind very much.

"Warring parties having a truce," Ginny said after thinking for a minute. "Not quite sure when it'll expire, though."

"Until the next time you piss me off?" Draco suggested.

Ginny snorted. "Or I mention Harry?" she waited to see if Draco would explode at the mention of Harry's name.

"Or I mention Pansy; you falling off your broom; your incompetent brother; your best friend that you shag – the Creevey one; your garish hair –"

"You can stop now," Ginny informed him.

"I was only stating the terms," he responded simply, watching with hidden longing as the redhead twirled a strand of hair around her finger. He never noticed that she did it before. Had she only started to that day?

Did her finger realize how lucky it was?

Ginny rolled her eyes, but then nodded. Chewing her lip for a second she shrugged. "So I suppose that means we'll have to call a…y'know…"

"Truce?" he asked with a bit of a grimace.

"Yeah," Ginny answered. She eyed the blond interestedly. "So what do we talk about now? Your _feelings_?"

"Har, har, Weasley."

"Maybe about how Ravenclaw is going to steamroll Hufflepuff in the match next week?" Ginny suggested, wondering if the conversation would take a turn for the worse.

"I might be interested in that topic…if I cared about either of those teams," said Draco thoughtfully.

"One day that smugness is going to catch up to you, Malfoy. And when it does, I'll be right there watching, pointing and laughing…"

"I'd do the same for you, of course," he assured her.

"Of course."

Oh, there were fun times ahead for the both of them.

* * *

That's it for now!

"And there were no sheep." – That comes from the movie "Ten Things I Hate about You." I love that line.

And here are the:

Replies: **Yav aka Shibs** That was exactly how I wanted people to feel! He's definitely very conflicted and that will come up more. I want to give him a hug, feel free to partake in the Draco as well. Thanks for reviewing! **Isadora** Thank you so much!!!!!! **Dweeb** Hahaha, nope, you didn't repeat yourself. Thanks for the long review. I blushed. And I hope this one didn't take too long, I started it before I released Ch.10, but for some reason, even if I've written a chapter, I wait forever to put it out there, so, yeah, if it gets _ridiculously_ long, PLEASE remind me about that. A few chapters ago, I didn't update for over a year…hehehe… **mell8** Wooh! I know! Thanks for the review!! **kittybro** I'm so glad that you decided to and that you like it!!! Thanks a lot for reviewing! **Knight-whosays-ni** I laughed so hard when I read your review. (Thank you for it, by the way) Hahaha, but no, he'll have plenty of real life material that he won't have to fantasize…muahaha. **Kaiyu Onibaba** I'm so evil, lol. But here it is; I hope the wait wasn't very long. Thank you for reviewing! **princess cythera** Thanks so much! **hufflepuffluvr** I'm glad you said that. I was thinking that I was way into the trashy romance novel territory, but I'm glad it was still enjoyable. Thanks for the review! **potterqueen89** Your review was very helpful, it made me think a lot about future chapters and changing a few things around, so thanks very much for it!! **xxbabysparklesxx** Thank youuu!!!!!! **Kari Black** Definitely, definitely. Thank you for reviewing. **shelly2** And I always look forward to your reviews!! **FickleFickleMuse** Before I say anything, I really like your name. And yes, every time I think of Draco I curse the fact that he's not real. Life is so cruel! **Luna Gypsy** Thanks a lot. It's nice to know that to some extent my story is set apart from the hundreds of others. Thanks for the review! **Slips deGrins** Thank you! Hope this was fast enough. **demented furiae** You are so great too, lol! Here it is!

I was trying to pump this chapter out as soon as possible before school starts again. I know that I may become a delinquent again, but I'll try my hardest not to. Once again, thank you all very, very much for the reviews. Keep 'em coming!

I hope you liked this chapter!! Oh; I might, _might_ be able to squinch out chapter 12 before the upcoming school year – I've already started it and I _love_ it so far – but I'm not sure, so no promises. If I can't, all of you enjoy the rest of your summers! I love you all! Thank you so much for all of the reviews!

- Femme


	12. Chapter Twelve

Author's Notes: It felt weird writing it since it's not winter yet, and not even near Christmas, but oh well. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nay, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters I use except for Professor Martin. But who'd want to own her anyway? On with the fic!

_Analyze This_

* * *

It was December.

It was blustery and cold outside and Hagrid could be seen from various windows of Hogwarts castle battling the snow. A dark, earthen path, created by an extremely large shovel with a suspicious pink umbrella peeking out from under it, followed his solid form.

The usual sights were seen around the various house common rooms; with maybe a few extra blankets and pillows than were visible during the first few weeks of school. Luna Lovegood inspected mistletoe that the house elves hung up for Nargles; Zacharias Smith was loudly debating the origins of Father Christmas with his few friends; Draco Malfoy was trying to decide if he should revise more or take a nap and risk seeing images of a familiar-looking redhead – he opted for more revision; Ginny Weasley was an amused witness to a row between her brother and his object of affection – along with the rest of the common room.

"Well I didn't want to sound too eager!" Hermione shouted defensively.

"Too eager? _Too eager_?!" Ron said, looking like a tall tomato with a jumper on. "Oh, why ever should you sound eager and make it easier on me?! Why should you let on that you wanted to go so I could stop torturing myself –?"

"Easier on _you_?! _Torture_?!"

"Yes! I'm the one who has to ask!"

"If it was such a chore, Ron, then you really shouldn't have bothered!"

"I couldn't bloody well _not_ have bothered, Hermione! What kind of argument is that?"

"One that would have given both of us relief, because had you _not_ asked me, we wouldn't be standing here, in the middle of the common room –"

"Stop caring about other people for one minute!"

"How can you say that, Ron? Harry's our best friend! What is the problem with extending the invitation to our best friend?"

"Only that he doesn't want to go! _Do_ you Harry?" Ron shot at Harry, glaring at Hermione who had her arms crossed.

"Oh no, not at all," said Harry quickly, looking between his friends and then back down at a book in his hands, wanting very much not to even be in the room at the moment.

"See!" said the redhead. "He doesn't want to go!"

"Harry is just saying that because you put him on the spot!"

Ron nodded slowly and tapped his foot erratically. "Sounds to me like you _want_ Harry to come."

"Of _course_ I do if he's going to be lonely."

"He's not."

"How do you know?!"

"I asked him!"

"Asked him?!"

"Yes, I asked him."

"Oh! Oh! May I play the Echo Game, too?" Ginny asked keenly from her spot on the floor beside Colin and Lark.

"Shut up, Ginny!" Ron ordered, and turned back to his shouting fest.

"Well I never!" exclaimed the younger redhead, though with a smile on her lips.

"If you asked him that means you were thinking about this in advance, Ron, which doesn't make any sense!"

"Why not?"

"Because that would mean that you were making sure that…that we were…well…_alone_…"

Ron's frown deepened. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Hermione looked startled. "Well, no…I suppose not…"

Ron scuffed his foot, still angry. "Then why did you make it sound like I was forcing you to come with me at wandpoint? Why bring up Harry if there's nothing wrong with going to Hogsmeade…with me…alone?"

"B-because I didn't want to sound eager…" Hermione said desperately.

Ron threw his hands to the heavens. "What is that supposed to _mean_?! I don't understand!"

"She _means_ that she wanted to go with you as well, but didn't want to _sound_ like she had wanted to go with you; that would be rather obvious, obviously. And there's nothing worse that being obvious – it makes a girl look needy," interjected Parvati, stealing a look at Lark.

"Thank you, Parvati!" Hermione snapped.

"Oh, well you're quite welcome," said the girl.

"Look, Hermione, I don't want you to come if you're going to be as miserable as I am right now," Ron mumbled.

The bushy-haired girl's hand shot out to grab the redhead's. "No! I'll go. I mean, you've extended the invitation so I might as well…" As Hermione could see that that was not very consoling either, she hurried on, "And besides, I want to! I mean go with you – without Harry. I'd…I'd really like that, Ron – no offense, Harry."

"None taken," said the green-eyed boy turning the page of his tatty _Quidditch__ through the Ages_.

"Are you sure?" Ron asked with a hint of hope in his voice.

"Very sure," said Hermione quietly.

Ron's ears were almost purple and an enormous smile cracked across his face. "Well, then! There we are!"

Hermione nodded rapidly, also beaming.

The two of them stood at the foot of the boys' and girl's staircase, Hermione's hand still around Ron's. Everyone in the room saw him give it the teensiest of squeezes and a few 'aww-ed'. When he heard that, Ron took his hand away and went to run it nervously through his hair, but then he looked at it oddly and chose the other one.

"So…" he said.

"So…" said Hermione.

"Tomorrow?" they said together.

And with one last look they both bolted up their respective staircases.

A great cheer rose up in the common room. Ginny ran over to Harry and gave him a huge hug.

"That was rather satisfying, was it not?" she asked happily.

Harry moved his hand in a gesture that said, 'so-so'. "Honestly, I thought it a bit anticlimactic," he answered dryly.

Ginny snorted and bounded off the chair and with a little dance hugged each of her own best friends tightly and then sprinted outside, rucksack jerking around on her back.

Finally, _finally_ they had gotten together! It was definitely not smooth sailing yet, as Ron and Hermione had a tendency to mess things up when it came to the other, but for a beginning it was phenomenal. Ginny felt like she could explode with satisfaction. Her stomach was churning with excitement and –

Actually, Ginny pondered, her stomach might have been churning with starvation.

Most people had given up lunch that day in favor of staying in the common room and doing work, as the Christmas-work-rush had begun the week before. Since break was coming up soon the teachers commenced their pileup of essays and projects, many of which needed to be handed in before the students went home. As a response, many opted to use up their lunch periods and frees to complete assignments that they would never have been able to finish without skipping a few meals.

School was insane.

Lark, Colin, and the Trio all gave Ginny their sympathies for having to meet with Draco when she had so much work to do – secretly Ginny disagreed. Although she would _never_ tell them so, Draco had proved himself to be a good person to study around. Ginny considered herself a diligent enough student but Draco's study habits sometimes bordered on obsessive – which Ginny was always wont to point out. More than once she had forced him to calm down and stop being such a manic with work; a few times he hadn't responded very well to her advice…

Ginny's claim that he was worse than a house elf trying to please his master pushed him to make a roundabout comment about Arthur Weasley. Unluckily for him Ginny had been practicing Shredding Charms – there went his sixteen-inch Potions essay. On the bright side it was only in fifteen pieces, an easy thing to piece together. On another occasion Ginny had stormed out after telling Draco in a less than nice way that he needed to let up or else he would end up as deranged as his father. Draco responded that Ginny wouldn't understand the importance of seventh-year, and that she never would, as she was too much of an imbecile to get past sixth.

That had not been an especially enjoyable afternoon.

Ginny burst through the door of The Room and threw her bag on her normal seat. Draco cursed when he blotted out a line on his parchment from surprise.

"How wonderful it is that you're here. Now leave," he said moodily.

"The sun is shining! The birds are singing! The world is alive!"

He dipped his quill in a small inkpot resting on an extra table they brought into the room a few weeks earlier.

"There is no sun because it's winter. The birds are somewhere south. People are dying of frostbite."

"Oh, get laid, Malfoy," Ginny told him rudely. "You'll be hard-put to ruin this for me." She sat down and took set out her papers to begin work, but didn't write anything down. "Ron and Hermione are going on their first Hogsmeade weekend together, tomorrow."

"Nice," said Draco. "Did Potter cry or throw a fit because he wasn't invited?"

"_No_; he was just as happy for them as I am – all of Gryffindor was."

"And you all care so much because…?"

"I dunno," Ginny said, twirling her quill. "It's just nice, is all. It's a relief. It proves that some things are meant to be – they're constant. Ron and Hermione arguing; Ron and Hermione eventually getting together; you being a prick…it's all a part of the universe's crazy game."

"Crazy indeed," said Draco. "Not to make you think that I had any interest in the love lives of your brother and his little friends, but I always figured that Potter would get the Granger."

"The Granger?"

"I don't consider her to be human – Don't get angry! You asked," said Draco defensively when he caught Ginny looking for something to throw at him.

"I'm sorry I did…but anyway, no, people who know them best always saw that Ron and Hermione were going to end up stuck with each other – especially after their fourth year."

"You mean when 'the gang' split up: Potter and Granger sulked around together and your brother tried to drown himself in the Great Lake from jealousy? That only cinched my belief that Specs and Beaver were shagging all along."

Ginny grit her teeth at Draco's remarks and the blond smiled contently when he saw; it was always fun to get a rise out of her.

"Actually Harry was bored out of his mind spending all his time alone with Hermione. We were talking about it a while ago and even Hermione said that her days didn't have the same 'kick'. But notice that when Ron and Hermione are all alone there are always fireworks."

Draco blinked. "That was really beautiful, Weasley. Your cliché comparisons between your brother, Granger and pyrotechnics have convinced me that love really _will_ save us all."

Ginny huffed. "Just do your work."

He shrugged and lowered his head to continue writing while watching Ginny from under shuttered lids.

Ginny was annoyed. She had tried not to let him ruin the whole common room moment for her but it wasn't working at all. It was stupid to expect him to get excited over two people that he cared nothing about, but he could have at least faked it. Instead of carrying on anymore she decided to stick to her work as work was the only thing that stimulated him at all.

After ten more minutes Ginny found that she needed a fresh sheet of parchment to write on. She rummaged around in her pack, but found nothing save a few dry quills. Grumbling some more she stuck her head in it fully to do an all-around search. She really didn't want to ask Draco for anything…the last time she did he went on a rant about "never knowing that poor people were greedy" and they had had a huge row.

Ginny gnawed at the inside of her lip; Draco had a stack of parchment just sitting next to him. Maybe if she didn't ask but acted quickly he wouldn't be able to stop her from getting a sheet. Smiling deviously Ginny leaned close to get just one page from the pile.

But the damned thing refused to budge, and if she fought with it, it would rip.

Draco glanced idly at Ginny and then scratched something out on his homework. "I know you're infatuated with my cologne, but keep in mind that you're invading my personal space."

Ginny grunted as her struggle continued, but smirked when Draco exhaled loudly and handed her a sheet. "Humph. I do remember that scent well; it's on all Slytherin males: Eau du Female Repellant."

"Shut up, Weasel; this was imported from France. As a matter of fact I think that it's a fragrance created by one of the Delacours."

Ginny sniffed disdainfully. "That desperate to get with Miss Priss – I mean Mademoiselle Delacour? I should've figured; she's Female Repeller Number One."

"Hardly on all counts. Girls hate Fleur because they're jealous – females are superficial like that, you know, pretty girls hating pretty girls and all that. Also, it's not from Fleur's immediate family; one of her cousins made it, I think."

Ginny arched an eyebrow. "Anything else?"

The blond glanced at Ginny and then twisted his quill around in his fingers. "I'm not desperate to get in her robes – she's too blonde, you see. I have a thing for fiery haired temptresses."

Ginny looked at Draco in shock; but upon seeing the devious upturn of his lips as he continued to write his homework Ginny scowled and sat back.

"You little toerag. You're just saying that to see if you can get to me – but it'll never work. My heart is un-flutterable; just call me the Cold Hard Bitch," she said dryly.

"May I really?"

"Not if you value your life."

"Duly noted." He tapped his quill idly. "Was I really that obvious?"

Ginny nodded and returned to her homework. "You think you're such an angel and that I'd be daft enough to fall for your cheap lines. I've heard better ones from garden gnomes."

"I'm surprised that even a garden gnome would stoop to the level of 'wooing' you. And I never said that I was an angel, Weasley; I'm only guilty of looking like one."

"If I used as many Glamour Charms as you do I could pull off that line as well." Ginny scribbled a few lines down. "You're probably related to her somewhere down the line, anyway."

Draco sighed. "Aren't we all?"

The redhead paused. "You aren't – are you?"

The blond laughed, although Ginny noticed that it was a little hollow. "No, of course not. It surprises a lot of people, but the Malfoys and the Delacours don't share a common relative. The first time I ever saw Fleur was fourth year."

"If she belongs to such a high class family, though, you must have heard of her." Ginny touched Draco's shirt lightly and then pulled away. "I mean, you even know which one of her relatives made that cologne."

"I'm surprised at your cleverness, Weasley." Ginny rolled her eyes and he continued. "My mother is a distant acquaintance of Fleur's mother…Fantasia's her name, or something like that."

Ginny wrinkled her nose.

"When we were born they were thinking of engaging us in an arranged marriage."

Ginny eyes bugged out. "Surely no one does that anymore!"

He shrugged. "It was obviously cancelled or I would have met Fleur before three years ago."

"You wouldn't have agreed to it, though, would you?"

Draco mimicked Ginny intense gaze. "Do you think I would have had a choice?"

"Well…well…I don't know," she stumbled. "But I sort of know you, and I didn't ever think that you'd let yourself become roped into a scheme like that. I always figured you were…I dunno, stronger willed than that."

Draco eyes sharpened, but not in a cold way. He wouldn't have ever expected her to say that, but he didn't say so. "It's not a _scheme_."

"Fine. It's a trap."

"It _is_ for convenience, I'll give you that. But someone like you wouldn't understand; it's not always as miserable as people make it out to be. You meet when you're young so that you can become familiar. Companionship grows from that."

Ginny scoffed. "What about love?"

He tensed at the word and saw that Ginny's ears turned a bit red when she realized what she said. "If that's what you're looking for, you may be disappointed." She looked away. "Or maybe not. I really don't know."

"You could be right," Ginny relented. "Some of the strongest relationships develop from friendship – look at my brother and Hermione."

Draco made a face. "I'll opt for looking away, thank you very much."

Despite herself Ginny laughed. "What? You don't want that kind of thing?" When she saw his startled look she rolled her eyes. "Not now, of course, stupid – I wouldn't even get married right out of school. I mean later on."

Draco went back to his work. Of course he had thought about it before; being in the kind of family he was, required him to think toward the future. He had never talked about it to someone before, and he was unsure if he wanted to talk about it with Ginny Weasley. However she had a stubborn trait that forced things out of you and he wasn't eager to start an argument.

"I'll have to have someone continue the Malfoy line at some point, but that sort of thing seems so far removed from me. Some people just aren't the type for all of that 'sunshine and daisies in the morning' crap."

Ginny laughed outright. "True. But you'll never know until it happens to you. What if it does? Will you turn away just because you're unsure?"

Draco didn't know how to answer that, and frankly he was finished with the personal stuff for that day. "Well, Weasley, I'm sure you'll be the first to know as you're the nosiest person I've ever met."

"I'll take that as a compliment, as I've heard worse."

He smirked. "Do I get a thank you?"

Ginny snorted, but her eyes were dancing. "Nope. We ill-bred Weasleys don't understand proper social conduct."

He sighed heavily. "Then I shall have to teach you. The correct words are: 'Thank you, Mister Malfoy'."

"Sounds a tad stuffy to me. How about: 'Don't get ahead of yourself, Mister Slytherin Scum'?"

"You and your low-class jokes."

Ginny smiled at him and they sat awkwardly around, half in wonder that they hadn't nearly blown up the room with anger directed at the other.

Ginny heard a door slam down the hall and stampeding feet. "We're going to be late for class."

Draco nodded and stood up. They walked toward the door, still with that palpable weirdness surrounding them and then faced each other.

"Well, here." He stuck out his hand and Ginny stared at it. One second later she broke out laughing.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" she asked.

Draco withdrew his hand to his side, a bit aggravated that she hadn't accepted it.

"You were supposed to shake it. I was trying to be civil, but I see that you're taking lessons from Potter," he answered in clipped tones.

Ginny's mind drew a blank until she thought back to old stories of the Trio's first year at Hogwarts.

"Stop living in the past – this isn't supposed to be a replica of you and Harry on the Hogwarts Express in your first year."

Draco ignored Ginny and walked back to his seat to get his things. "Never mind; just forget it."

Ginny followed him and turned him around before he sat so that he could face her. "Don't 'never mind' me! I can't not mind it if you're going to hold something that stupid against me now! We've got enough to hold against the other without this added new bonus."

Draco didn't say anything.

"You're acting like a child, Malfoy," Ginny continued, trying to get a response from him. _Any_ response was better than silence.

"I've learned from the best."

Ginny's fists balled up angrily. "Why is it that whenever I do something, you automatically assume that it's to make you look idiotic? I only do that _half_ the time we're together, not _all_ the time. Don't flatter yourself into thinking that my sole purpose in life is to antagonize you, because it's not. I didn't shake your stupid hand because…because it was bloody weird!"

Draco laughed cynically. "Of all the things I've been called, I don't think 'weird' was ever among them until just now."

"I was only being truthful!" Ginny snapped. "You can't honestly tell me that shaking my hand wouldn't have been a bit odd? We're…I thought we were beyond that."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "We're not friends so we can't be beyond anything."

Ginny was stung but she responded to his observation. "I haven't forgotten that. You once told me that you hated me."

"Cut the holier-than-thou act, Weasley – you feel the same way."

The palms of Ginny's hand pulsed painfully as her nails dug into them. Why didn't he ever just know when to shut up?

"I've…I've been trying to get past that."

The blond shook his head derisively. "To _better_ yourself?"

"No! To deal with this situation! I couldn't be here everyday if all I thought about was how much I wanted to…that I…"

"Hate me?"

"You're so bitter," Ginny whispered. "Your life has made you so fucking bitter that you can't even be reasonable anymore."

"All reason was lost when Dumbledore and Martin shoved us into this arrangement. Reason was lost when I didn't tell him to screw himself and these sessions. Reason was lost when I just gave you my hand to symbolize the first time we've been around each other without tearing the other apart." He laughed coldly. "That's all gone to hell hasn't it?"

"Only because you keep blaming me for everything," Ginny insisted. "You compare me to Harry when I piss you off or embarrass you; you compared me to your father because I hit you –"

"That day in the hall had _nothing_ to do with Lucius," Draco hissed.

"The hell it didn't, Draco."

The blond froze at the use of his name. He stared at Ginny, daring her to talk more about his father, but she didn't take the bait. She just stood there, looking at him, making him want to crawl in the ground like the lowest of vermin and spend the rest of his days there.

She was right. He was bitter. And worse he was a coward. He wanted to be close to her but he wouldn't allow himself to, even though he could feel that he was gravitating to her every time they met – what's more every time he saw her he was drawn to her. In the hall he could spy her right away, but he always put it off as her hair being so bright that he couldn't miss her. That's what a coward would say.

He knew that she couldn't feel the same way. She was only being logical – it really wouldn't be possible to meet up if they continued to hate each other as they did in the beginning.

Ginny was trying to be…a friend to him – at the very least an acquaintance – and he was shoving it back in her face.

Why wouldn't she just despise him and leave him alone? At least that would make some sort of sense.

"Look, you probably want me to go away or you want to storm off, but that gets old after a while." Ginny offered a freckled hand to Draco. "I'm willing to swallow my own pride, even though you're the one who's being thick, so that I can still get you to help me with my homework when we meet."

She was able to summon a small smile, which only served to make the blond even more confused.

"Are you so used to letting things slide that you'll ignore this whole argument in favor of getting a better grade?" he asked.

Ginny's smile faltered and she didn't quite meet Draco's eyes. "I'm not 'letting you slide' – not at all. And even if I were, it wouldn't be for grades, it wouldn't even be for Martin's sake, or Dumbledore's or anyone else's." She paused. "It would be for my sanity."

Draco snorted, and after a moment of watching Ginny carefully, accepted her hand. He felt her squeeze it lightly as a professional handshake would go and released quickly, clearing his throat.

"What did you have in mind, then?"

Ginny's eyebrows furrowed. "For what?"

"Instead of shaking my hand the first time – you said it would have been weird. What would have been less weird?"

He saw Ginny's ears redden once more and became especially curious.

"I mean as long as it's not one of those spit handshakes that you lower-class are said to do –"

"Shut it, it's nothing like that," Ginny snapped. Her eyes flicked to his and he watched as she swallowed. Ginny took a step forward and Draco automatically stepped back. Noticing, Ginny's face relaxed and she smirked, and continued to advance. She reached up to his cheek and touched it lightly.

Draco stood very still, unsure of whether she was going to do and hoping that she did it soon before he went insane. Ginny stood higher on the balls of her feet and all Draco could see was her hair; he closed his eyes and felt himself relax and tense all at the same time when her soft lips touched his cheekbone. His hand went to the small of her back and he felt her nose brush the side of his face. He licked his own lips and tried to keep his breathing even when her lips unexpectedly went to his neck for a feather light kiss.

Draco knew that he failed to keep calm when his hands unconsciously tightened around Ginny and she sprang away from him.

Heart beating halfway through her chest, Ginny waited for him to say something, but he didn't. So she nodded at him, cheeks suspiciously pinker than usual, and started out.

Not quite wanting her to leave yet, Draco burst out, "So that's what you and your friends do? To solve things, I mean?"

Ginny stopped in her tracks and turned around. "Er…sort of…Colin and I used to do that."

Draco froze, alarmed. "Not very often, though? Right?"

"No! No! Not often at all. Only when I was being silly," Ginny said quickly. "And not on the, er, neck."

Draco had the urge to fidget, as he saw that Ginny did; but neither wanted to admit discomfort.

"Then why would you do that to me?"

Ginny's glanced at Draco. "Because you're not Colin."

There was a pause.

"I see," he said calmly, though not calm at all on the inside. Draco was unsure of whether not being Colin would be a good thing or not. If it included more things like _that_, he was ready to strap on a camera, live with Muggles, and admire the way flowers grew in twilight. Almost.

A door slammed once more and the two snapped out of their stupor.

"I have class," Ginny said. "I have to go. I suppose I'll see you around, then?"

Draco bent down to put his parchments together so that he would not have to look at the redhead in the doorway any longer. "That's how it goes," he said.

Ginny nodded at him although he couldn't see it and left without another word.

* * *

"Oh, I forgot to ask where you all are going to be on holiday. I need to send you your presents and things. Ginny, you're going to be at the Burrow, right?"

"Yeah, nowhere especially interesting," Ginny told Lark.

"That's not true! Something's always happening there."

"Usually something happens _to_ someone, courtesy of Fred and George," Ginny corrected.

"You shouldn't complain; you're just as bad as they are sometimes," said Colin.

"Too true!" Ron agreed readily, listening to the conversation. "I do remember that time you stole that really rare, antique book from me and used it as a towel for your stupid dolls." He waved his chess piece at the group assembled around him. "When I got it back it was mushy and unrecognizable."

Hermione appeared incensed at the fact that Ginny could treat a book – a "rare" one at that – so roughly; Ginny decided to set her straight.

"That was no antique, Ron; it was _Marvin Miggs the Mad Muggle_, or whatever you call it."

"It was issue number one!" Ron cried.

Ginny shook her head. "No, it was issue eleven – I've always told you that and you never listen. Fred and George erased one of the digits just to see how obsessed you would get if you thought it was worth a load of galleons."

Ron paused in his arm waving. "You mean all this time I thought…"

"Yes, Ron. All this time you thought you were sitting on a goldmine and it's really nothing. Nothing at all. _Nothing_."

The seventh-year looked terribly stricken.

"Don't feel sorry for yourself – you never even read it all that often or else you would've realized that it wasn't issue one," Ginny said.

"I didn't want to touch it all the time it if it was worth money!" Ron exclaimed. "And I read it frequently enough."

Ginny gave him a long look. "Yeah, in dog years."

"All I know is that you'd better give me a bloody wonderful gift this year. I mean pull out all the stops –"

"Yes, yes; more chocolate from Honeydukes…" Ginny said, waving her hand dismissively.

Ron scowled and moved a pawn on the board; Harry hadn't been listening to Ron's complaints at all as he struggled to beat his friend at the game.

Ginny only listened halfway as Colin informed Lark that he was going to visit his aunt over the holiday; and that he wasn't exactly looking forward to it as she always called him "Lovey!" in a shrill voice and tried to set him up with his second cousins.

Instead she thought more on the gift that she would be picking up the next day for Draco. It was a gift that would probably annoy him more than one that he would enjoy, but Ginny couldn't resist. More than a little thought had been put into it (and quite a lot of sniggering), and it wasn't all that expensive. She doubted that she would be getting anything in return, but of course he would hear it from her if he didn't.

Ginny sighed.

It was going to be rough at The Burrow without having her personal scapegoat to yell at and take her frustrations out on. Ron was going to be too sulky to have fun with, as Hermione's parents wanted her to be home for holiday, or at least part of it. If she did come it would only be for a few days at the very end. Bill and Charlie would be busy being interrogated by her mother who was in desperate need of grandchildren – or so she claimed. Percy was too busy being an arsehole and returning his Weasley jumpers. And Fred and George would definitely prank her if she got on their nerves.

There would be no one at all to steal parchment or sugar-quills from and get called a "greedy weasel". There would be no one to be absolutely furious with – it just wouldn't be the same kind of fury, Ginny reckoned. No one would be there to steal looks at when they didn't notice, or to smirk at when they tried to hide a smile.

There was no Draco Malfoy at The Burrow. And Ginny knew that it was irrational, but she wanted one very, very much.

She would miss him.

And all she would have to remember him by was the present he _might_ give her, and the memory of how he felt when she kissed him that afternoon…

Ginny snorted and shook her head.

It wasn't like he had gotten eaten by a manticore or something. Why was she pining over him?

He was probably very scared of her now, anyway. Kissing him on the neck like she did…Ginny recalled feeling his hands come around her, and thinking that he was going to push her away. She had jumped back before he could do it first. At least he hadn't asked too many questions about it.

She didn't have many answers to give.

* * *

"Hey, Ginny."

The girl turned around and gave a friendly smile to the person who had been calling her.

"Oh, hullo! What's going on?"

The redhead walked at a slower pace to accommodate her companion. It wasn't so bad, as the snow was gathering on the road, and Ginny was in no hurry to get to Fred and George's shop. If it hadn't collapsed in all the time they had had it so far, it wouldn't just up and fall at that very moment.

She hoped.

There were slight flurries outside and she pulled her cloak closer to her. The flakes only seemed to attack her face now that her body was secure, so Ginny reached for her hood. She wasn't able to reach it until the boy beside her reached behind her and pulled it up.

"Thanks," Ginny said, pulling some of her loose hair out onto her shoulders and feeling a bit grateful for once that her cloak was as old and gray as everything else she owned – at least no one would mistake her for a Death Eater.

"Nothing much," Dean said, in response to Ginny's first words. "I was hanging around by myself for the most part, finishing up some last minute gift shopping." He held up a bag. "I'm not all that great at this sort of thing, so I hope the people who I got them for like them."

Ginny's lips turned up mischievously at him. "I'm sure they will – not that I'd know of course. When I was _your_ girl I distinctly remember you being rather lax in the gifts department."

Dean chuckled, his dark eyes glowing. "You're lucky that I can laugh about that now, Ginny. I used to think that I'd cry just thinking about it."

Ginny slapped him on the chest playfully. "A big, strong bloke like you? Never."

The dark skinned boy rubbed his head as if remembering a headache.

"Against the wrath of your brother, I am but a flobberworm; Lark's more of a force than me."

The two of them grinned. The year before, Ron had taken Ginny's innocent mention of Dean Thomas as a prospective boyfriend seriously. Not knowing that he had become involved in a battle between the two youngest Weasleys over Ginny's right to date, Dean had acted as he normally did around Ginny – like someone who was not her boyfriend in any way, shape, or form. When Ginny had not received one single owl from him over the summer, not even at her birthday or Valentine's Day back at Hogwarts, Ron was most aggrieved and had contrived to go after him with Harry to teach Dean how one should treat their paramour. Hermione had pointed out to Ron that he shouldn't be the one directing other people in the ways of women, further infuriating the redhead. In the end, Lark provided a distraction in which Dean was able to escape from the Gryffindor common room for a good hour, in which Ginny was able to clear up the whole misunderstanding.

"I know, she's great," said Ginny.

"Yeah…but anyway, I was just walking around after picking up all the stuff and so I stopped by the joke shop. Your brothers told me to remind you that they're expecting you."

Ginny nodded. "I was just heading over that way, actually. I just came from Honeydukes with Seamus and Lark. Were you looking for him?"

"You're spot on," said Dean. "Are they still there?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, I think they're headed over to The Three Broomsticks; it's starting to get colder."

"True." Dean looked deep in thought for a second. "D'you think they're busy – I mean, would I be intruding on…er, anything?"

"Don't fancy seeing what they get up to, eh?"

The seventh-year looked a bit sick. "Definitely not."

Ginny shrugged. "I really don't know. I think they're just hanging around; they probably wouldn't mind the extra company."

He smiled. "Sounds like a plan then."

They passed slowly by Gladrags and both realized that Dean would have to turn around and go in the other direction.

"Thanks for the info, Ginny," he said, preparing to trek back to the warmth that the promise of butterbeers afforded.

"Any time, my dear," joked the redhead.

Ginny went off to Fred and George's. On entering, she was immediately hauled into the door, dragged by two tall redheaded blurs on each arm. From what she could tell, they were taking her to "The Inquiry Chair". The girl almost tripped and fell face first into the hard mahogany wood, but at the last moment was pulled upright and instead fell in the chair properly.

"Damn you two!" she yelled furiously when she caught her breath. "Was that really necessary?! I almost got a face-full of _chair_, and all you'll do is _stand_ there, pleased as ever that you almost killed the last Weasley. When I tell Mum, that you're still using The Chair even though –"

"When d'you reckon it'll stop, George?"

"I don't know. She's a hellcat like Mum, so I suppose we'll have to coddle the mite first, and deliver lots of warm hugs and kisses," Fred suggested.

"Right now?"

"Right-o."

"Come any closer and you'll have matching footprints stamped all over your faces. I'll kill you and bury you somewhere in the cellar, and no one will find your bodies. They'll just say you two blew yourselves up like everyone always imagined you would," Ginny threatened, sticking her leg out so that if they came at her they'd run into it first.

George blinked. "I really think I feel a tear coming on, Fred." He looked down at the floor where his brother was lying, evidently dissolved in tears.

"I know j-just what you m-mean," he choked out.

Ginny scowled and lowered her foot to kick the man on the floor so that he rolled over. His face was fresh and bright, without a hint of wetness; much like a good forecast for the day.

"Why don't you two act your age for once?"

Fred popped up and leaned back on the counter, legs crossed in front of him. "We will when you tell us how that would be _any_ fun at all."

Ginny dusted herself off airily and breathed in and out for composure. "Just give me the dratted thing and I'll be out of your hair."

"No, not quite yet, dear sister – you're not in The Chair for nothing," Fred informed her.

"The Chair" was really innocent looking enough. It wasn't exactly comfortable – it was straight-backed and hard; its dark wood held a few scratches on the surface from someone's quill. It was unimpressive for the most part.

That was until Fred and George had picked it up from a rubbish heap when moving their inventions into Wheezes Headquarters, also known as simply 'the shop' to people who were familiar with them. The twins presumed that since they were suddenly away from home, they didn't get to see the good-old family nearly as much as they desired; they were no longer able to be privy to Weasley gossip as soon as it was hot off the presses.

Hence The Chair.

When various friends and family first came to see the joke shop, they found themselves being whisked into the mahogany chair and interrogated on pain of Twin Torture – torture in the form of being tested for their latest inventions. And one could not leave the chair until they thoroughly embarrassed themselves.

Family after all, was everything to Fred and George. Everything. And it didn't hurt that they got free testers either.

Molly Weasley decried The Chair as unlawful, and terrible, and a true shame, and threatened dire punishments if ever it was used again. And so the legacy of The Chair ended – but it was not forgotten.

Ginny reckoned that the twins knew more secrets than Dumbledore, from that hunk of wood.

"I remember you telling us that we were your favorite brothers, Ginevra," said George sadly. "Did it mean nothing? Are you so frivolous that you could discard us the following week, like dirty knickers?"

Ginny blinked. "No one wears underpants for a week, George."

"Fine, I'll think more along the lines of a freshly washed robe; I always wear that for seven days, eight at the most."

The girl simulated gagging. "With the stuff you get into, I'd like to think you'd change robes four times a day."

"Ah, but would that make any sense at all, young one?" asked Fred. "_All_ of our robes would be filthy then, instead of just the few. But let's get to talking about the _real_ dirty laundry, shall we?"

The youngest redhead in the room smiled. "Alright, then. If you give me what I came for, I'll love you two the most for an entire month, with the added bonus of dirt on Ron. I doubt that you'd get the exclusive I have even if you used The Chair on him."

Fred reached forward and ruffled Ginny's hair affectionately. "That's our girl; bollocks-breaker extraordinaire."

Ginny rolled her eyes and then broke out into a large grin.

"So what's it look like?"

Fred hopped off the counter and went to retrieve Ginny's item from the backroom. George turned eagerly to his sister.

"Your payment begins now."

Still grinning Ginny took a theatrical breath and plunged into the tale. "Common room after dinner: Ron invites Hermione to come to the Three Broomsticks with him today for a butterbeer. Hermione gets all nervous, and embarrassed, and proposes that Harry come along. Ron gets nervous and insecure; yells at Hermione. Hermione becomes more nervous and defensive; yells back. Parvati explains the intricacies of the female mind and uses the word 'obvious' at least twenty-seven times, or maybe it was two – I don't really pay attention to her. Hermione goes into nervous mode – big surprise there – then she becomes indignant. In the finale Ron and Hermione declare that they would both enjoy a Harry-free, semi-date butterbeer that will lead to their marriage with many, many kids. They become nervous together and run to their rooms to squeal and cheer and maybe cry with relief." Ginny exhaled loudly. "How's that for Ginny Fortescue's Special Insider's Scoop?"

"Even better than Florean's Chocolate-Mousse Supreme Delight," said George.

"Don't forget the rainbow sprinkles!" added Fred.

Ginny suppressed a flush at the mention of that particular ice cream. If either of her brothers detected it, she would be the one delving out information on herself. Did everyone on the bleeding planet like that flavor?

"I take it you heard every word?" asked Ginny.

Fred pointed at the floor where a fleshy looking line was dragging behind him; Extendable Ears.

"That I did, and I'm thinking of ways to deliver hell to our younger brother."

"Well we've done toilet seats – or at least we tried – this shouldn't prove too much of a challenge."

Ginny stood up and tried to peek around Fred's back where he was holding what she came for. "Let's see it then."

He pulled it around him and gave it to Ginny gingerly; the twins were always so much more careful with their products than they were with actual people.

"Let's show her how to work the joint, George," said Fred.

George nodded, and came closer to his siblings, pointing out buttons and ways to 'maintain it' for at least ten minutes.

"It's not a pet or a broomstick," complained Ginny. "Why do I need to _maintain_ it?"

"Because it's better than some old rubbish Phoenix or Firebolt. Better yet than a mangy kneazle. It's a Weasley's Wizard Wheeze, is what it is."

So with extra assurance that she would keep the item in a warm space (room temperature preferably), under an extra blanket in the very cold of winter, and occasionally in the icebox in the dead of summer, Ginny was allowed to leave. She gave her brothers a peck on the cheek and with a jaunty wave pulled her hood over her head and disappeared into the flaky white air.

The door jangled closed on the shop and George sighed serenely. "We've done right by that one, we have."

"Too true; we've brought her up well." Fred went over to the till to arrange the coins for the next customer. After a minute he looked out of the door with a goofy smile. "Actually, George, we might've done _too_ well. The little rugrat never told us _why_ she wanted it in the first place."

George rubbed his hairless chin. "Next time she comes in, half an hour on The Chair, d'you reckon?"

"Indubitably," said Fred.

* * *

Feeling the comfortable weight of the object she had picked up from the joke shop in her pocket, Ginny returned to the Three Broomsticks to find that Dean was sitting with Lark and Seamus, and that Ron and Hermione were with them.

When they first arrived at Hogsmeade, the two newly-involved seventh-years had immediately gone to a more secluded spot, but Ginny supposed that now all of the initial shock that they were on a date together was out of the way, and they felt more comfortable being around other people.

She caught Ron's eye while Hermione was speaking rapidly to the other occupants of the table. The Head Girl's hand was lying on the table and Ron's hand was shifting anxiously next to it.

'Hold it,' Ginny mouthed. Ron shook his head a fraction, not understanding. Ginny was standing in the entrance, and no one other than her brother had noticed her yet; Ron and Hermione were facing the door of the pub, but Dean, Lark, and Seamus were smushed into the opposite bench – in that order.

Ginny held her hands up in the air and intertwined them. 'Hold, Her-my-oh-knee's _hand_!' She mouthed.

Not quite using the subtlety that Ginny might have preferred, Ron snatched Hermione's hand off the table. She watched as Hermione stopped speaking, and looked at Ron open-mouthed. A brilliant flush crept up Ron's neck and he started to pull away, but Hermione slowly smiled, linked her fingers through his and resumed conversation, with only the smallest hint of a flush. Ginny saw Ron stare at Hermione with a wondrous look on his face, and sighed a bit wistfully. Unnoticed once more, Ginny went quietly out the door. Her work was done; Harry would be proud.

Speaking of the green-eyed boy, Ginny thought that she might pay him a visit. He was all alone up at the castle, and though he didn't say it, she wondered if he might have wanted some company after all. After popping into Dervish and Banges just to say 'hello' to Colin and the other sixth-years he was chatting with, Ginny took her leave back up to the castle. Before she went to the common room to sit around with Harry, she wanted a little alone time to sort out some thoughts.

The redhead walked back up the Hogsmeade entrance where the carriages were sitting patiently for Hogwarts' students, and saw that there was one leaving right at that moment. Wanting to catch it, Ginny ran up behind it, waving her arms so that somehow it would notice the flailing body trailing after it. When it slowed down enough for her to hop on, she hoisted her foot up on the side step of the carriage and threw herself inside.

"That wasn't hard at all," she muttered, catching her breath.

"Don't get much exercise, do you, Weasel?" said a low voice in the corner.

With a jump Ginny flipped her wand out and pointed it at the person. She shot at dark look at him when he pulled his hood down and smirked.

"You certainly didn't think to help me, though, did you?" Ginny said, putting her wand away and patting the object in her pocket to make sure that it hadn't broken.

Draco smirked and pushed his hair out of his face when a gust of wind came inside. "Well I didn't think that you were going to attempt to catapult yourself into a moving carriage."

Ginny lowered her head under the pretext of tidying her robes, but Draco could still see a smile tugging at her lips. As the carriage trundled along she decided to interrogate him. It was too quiet.

"So why are you coming back up to the castle so early? Deserted by your friends?" she asked.

Draco seemed to look at Ginny for a long moment before answering, as if thinking about every word he was about to say.

"I was looking for someone," he said slowly, not taking her eyes away from Ginny's for a second.

Draco turned his head to look out of the small window.

"You didn't find him – or her?"

"I didn't say that," said the blond. "I found her just fine."

Ginny twiddled her fingers. "So…what did you get up to?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Feeling strangely put out, Ginny remained silent for the rest of the ride. Even when the carriage stopped and she and Draco trooped up to the Entrance, all that they heard was the whistling of the wind. They walked down the corridor for a while, very interested in the hanging torches and tapestries on the walls, seemingly unmindful of the other's presence beside them.

After ten minutes Ginny halted.

"Wait." Her eyes were looking down at the stone floor. "Wait for a moment."

"I have things to do," Draco said impatiently, although he stopped in his tracks.

"It won't take long."

He nodded reluctantly and watched as she took something out of her pocket and held it up for him to see.

"I remembered you saying something once about me never shutting up and that you at least had time to escape from me over holiday. I was going to wait to give this to you until another time…you see…and it's not even wrapped or anything, but–"

"May I have a look at it now, or do you still want to rant?" Draco interrupted.

But Ginny didn't smile. She paused for a moment, and then thrust the object in his face.

Wordlessly, Draco accepted it and eyed it. It was a large crystal ball with a polished, flat wooden surface to stand on. However it was foggy and the blond could detect nothing. He gave Ginny a blank look and she rolled her eyes. Coming closer to him, she held up the base for him to see. There was a small black button there.

"Push," she ordered. He did.

Suddenly the cloudy ball cleared and inside Draco saw two very solid figures in a very familiar looking room.

"Again," Ginny said quietly.

There was a small figurine sitting on a couch with dark black robes and very shiny yellow hair. He had beady grey eyes and Draco was sure that it was wearing a smirk on its miniature face. Another figurine in gray, admittedly shabby looking robes, with vermillion hair was sitting patiently with her hands clasped together. When Draco pushed the button the second time, the flaxen-haired figurine stood up, pointed, and laughed at the girl. The girl then jumped up and smacked the boy across the face so that he fell back on the couch.

Draco bit back a smile when he heard Ginny sniggering next to him.

Next, the girl stood over the now sad-faced boy figurine, pointed at him, and opened her mouth wide as if she was shouting at him at the top of her lungs. When that happened, the crystal ball began to shake a little; Draco assumed that it was the special effects. In the end of the animation, the blond figure put his hands over his ears amidst the shouts and adopted a very miserable look on his face. The girl smirked and the ball clouded up once more, but directly after it, silver lettering flashed through the inside of it. Draco peered closer to read it out, and he snorted when he did: '_Wishing You a Happy Christmas, Free of That_' it said. The ball clouded up once more.

"Originally it was supposed to activate automatically every half-hour, but I thought that might get a bit annoying so I got the button installed on it."

Draco didn't say anything.

"It's really just supposed to be a reminder for you to behave yourself over the holiday. Know that if you come back acting like a git, you'll get just what you saw in there," Ginny prattled on.

The blond smiled a little at that. "Okay," he said.

Ginny smiled back, feeling a relieved. Draco then touched her arm lightly. "It's your turn to wait, now." He went into the deepest part of his cloak and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in translucent paper. With a curious look Ginny took it from him. When she did, her mouth fell open.

"You didn't buy this!" she accused.

Draco half glared. "No, I just stole it from a very expensive store and they let me walk out with it. Now I'm giving it to _you_, rather than pawning it off and getting actual money for it."

Ginny realized what she said and laughed. "Er, right. I just, wow…"

She held the scarf up and rubbed it gently with her face to test the texture. Draco smirked inwardly. He knew she would like it…Well, sort of. At the time he bought it he was worried that she would chuck it back at him and declare him a cheap bastard for buying a stupid scarf. But when he saw her outside Gladrags with the Gryff, Dean Thomas, shivering a bit, he knew that it was something she _needed_ at the very least. It didn't hurt that it was from a Geesh, either. The animal was half-sheep, half-unicorn, and one of the ugliest creatures alive in Draco's opinion; but its pelt was worth galleons.

He was very pleased with himself indeed.

When Ginny brought the scarf away from her face, her eyebrows were bushy and he grinned, amused. Raising a hand to her face he proceeded to make them lie flat with his fingers. Ginny went very still.

"What are you doing?"

"Smoothing them out; I can't stand to look at them the way they were before," he murmured, keeping his gaze strictly above Ginny's eyes. When he finished he let his hand fall. "It's better – still hopeless, but less scary."

The redhead laughed. "True. I had been hoping that I would get new eyebrows from Father Christmas, but all he sent me was this dumb scarf."

The seventh-year raised his own brows and reached for it. "I'll just be taking it back then."

Ginny stepped back, smirking. "Not on your life."

Draco shook his head and stared at the redhead. "Hopeless, indeed." They both fell silent and he watched as Ginny shuffled her feet idly in the all-too tranquil silence of the hall. "Try it on," he said abruptly.

Ginny's forehead scrunched up in question; she held up her gift.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, the scarf."

The redhead stuck her tongue out at him but followed directions. Her eyes shone when Draco took a small step back as her elbow came close to clipping him on the nose as she wrapped it around her neck. When she finished, Ginny grinned up at him.

"So?"

Draco stared at Ginny. She looked…she looked… for lack of a better word she looked unbelievably…cute. Her neck had all but disappeared under the thick wool, and the creamy off white set off her flaming hair and fair skin to perfection. Her eyes were dark but cheery and her lips were quirked up in a smile at him.

"I…I have good taste," he said finally.

Ginny tilted her head from side to side. "I actually have to agree – I didn't think that wool could be so soft." She held up the end for him to feel and he took it, although he already knew how soft it was – he bought it after all.

"My mother likes this material. It's the best, you know."

Ginny laughed. "Snob."

He shrugged and took his hand away. "But, thanks all the same," she said. "Really." She looked at him carefully and then to Draco's eternal surprise, reached up to put her arms around his neck and held him close. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear.

Draco swallowed. "It's alright; the money is part of my large allowance – I've got plenty left."

She laughed and Draco closed his eyes for a second to concentrate on the feel of her body vibrating against him. After a moment Ginny faced him fully.

"Close your eyes," she told him.

Draco brought his arms around Ginny's waist. "Why?"

"Because I said so," said Ginny quietly.

Draco stared at her, and then when he saw that she wasn't going anywhere until he did, he listened to her directions. He was glad he did.

Ginny tentatively kissed his lower lip, and then his upper, and then kissed him fully on the mouth. Draco lowered his head so that she wouldn't have to reach as high and held Ginny securely to him. He could feel her eyelashes brushing his face, and the warm scarf plush against his skin. He felt her hands tiptoe into his hair and pull his head down to deepen the kiss. But when he opened his mouth and nudged Ginny's lips apart she broke away from him, breathing heavily.

"What…what was that for?" he asked, confused.

Ginny's flushed and pointed up. Draco lifted his eyes to the ceiling and then looked back down.

"You did that just because…just because there was…nothing there?"

The redhead made a face and then looked up quickly to where she had pointed and then cursed herself mentally; she felt unbelievably _stupid_. In all of the stories she had heard of people getting Christmas kisses, there was always mistletoe, _always_.

It was just _there_ – even if you didn't know it. When Cho kissed Harry, there was mistletoe just hovering above them – he hadn't even seen it until the fecking girl thrust her wet face onto his! It was as if the mistletoe sensed that people wanted to kiss, and decided to make it easier on them. But now when all Ginny wanted was one goddamned sprig of that accursed leaf, it wasn't there.

It should have been there! Just hanging! And when she pointed up, he could have seen it and understood that she didn't kiss him because she was _dying_ to…but because she was obligated to by the Law of the Mistletoe.

It was a straightforward plan! Now she had to search the whole bloody hall and pray that there was one somewhere, not too far down.

'Next time, stupid,' she told herself, 'check for the freaking thing first, then kiss…not that there would be a next time…' She had broken away because it was only supposed to be a _simple_ kiss. Just to test the waters…see if she really, truly wanted to…and now she had let loose a freaking tempest.

Draco watched with semi-amusement as Ginny seemed to look up and down the hall for a moment. She released a low breath and then pointed instead to a nearby empty classroom's doorway. There was mistletoe hanging mockingly in front of the window.

Ginny looked at Draco. "Just a slight, er, miscalculation."

Although it still didn't make much sense to the blond, he nodded anyway. He supposed that all Gryffindor followed the mistletoe rule, and ignored the small feeling of disappointment when he had thought that she did it because…well because she wanted to. But that was a stupid thought anyway. It deserved to be shunned.

Before another awkward silence could settle over the pair Draco decided to take his leave. The moment was gone, it would never be recovered, and he had better cut his losses. He extracted himself from Ginny's warmth and nearly faltered when her brown eyes watched him go with something that looked like regret.

He supposed that she was thinking they shouldn't have done it. Sometimes things that felt right really weren't at all. It was obvious that she was thinking along those lines, so who was he to want more?

Draco patted his robes' pocket to make sure Ginny's present was still there and with a lopsided smile turned on his heel, though leaving was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Happy Christmas and all that, Weasel," he called in an easy tone. When he was far enough so that she couldn't see, he took her gift out and pushed the button twice and watched the animation play out.

Ginny swallowed and watched his tall figure sweep away from her down the hall. "Right back at you," she replied, not quite knowing if he heard.

* * *

The ending was kind of melancholy, but it'll lighten up soon. That was a sweet kiss, but there is more than that on the way! At least that bit is out of the way, though.

And here are the:

Replies: **Dweeb** Yeah, the Snap thing is made up, but you can definitely use the style. I really wish I knew how they _actually_ played, but oh well. Thanks for the review! **toastsnatcher** Yup, Ginny likes him too. I had realized that it seemed a bit one-sided, and so I hope this chapter cleared that up even more. Wooh! Thank you for reviewing! **xxbabysparklesxx** Thank youuuu! **FickleFickleMuse** You're certainly welcome. When are you going to update??!! Calling yourself Moirae wouldn't have been understood by everyone (I don't think I would have, at least), but it's interesting. I'm sure you would've been asked about it. Thanks for reviewing! **coldflamez** Thanks! **Luna Gypsy** I know, I wish he were real; even if he were mean I'm sure that I could…cough… straighten him out…Thanks for reviewing! **pamie884** There is MUCH, MUCH more to come, I promise. Muahaha, I have the "action" scene written out already, I just need to fill the actual chapter out. I'm so excited…Thanks for reviewing! **thefutureMrs.Kaiba** Thank you so much! **seekerpeeker** Thank you very, very much for the review. I loved it. It was great hearing which parts you liked and suggestions that you had. And I promise that Ginny will not end up pregnant! Please cyber-impale me or something if I do, although I have read "In the Way of Fools" by Sasori, and thought that pregnant Ginny was hilarious. Thanks again so much for the review! **MoonlightPrincess** Here it is!

_Once again, I must give a general thank you to all reviewers for comments and suggestions. I really do listen to them, and all of them have been _exceedingly_ helpful. Until next time!_

- Femme


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Author's Notes: Terribly, terribly long delay. You've got all of my apologies and then some. Here we go.

Disclaimer: Le franchise de Harry Potter does not belong to me. And seeing as I've just corrupted at least two languages, let's get on with the story.

_Analyze This_

* * *

Ginny stomped her worn-in dragonhide boots on the immense carpet stretched out before her. They had been Charlie's, and she wondered if they would still hold up if she dared to even put a foot in them. Luckily, dragonhide was very resilient material and had passed the test of time admirably.

She shook leftover snow out of her hair and pulled it up into a tight ponytail with hope that it wouldn't dry into a large mess of frizz; the tangles wouldn't be at all pleasant to deal with as it stood. Feeling the warming effect of the castle on her damp clothes, the redhead surveyed the fun going on without her through the partially open doors. She saw Dean gather a huge amount of snow from a pile near him and dump it ruthlessly atop Lark's head. Lark shrieked and began to hop around, while Colin pointed at her and laughed. Ginny allowed her own amusement to leak out, and shook her head. That action got the attention of the photographer (whose instrument was swinging happily around his neck; secure with a Waterproof Charm) and before Ginny realized it, he had aimed three snowballs straight at her.

Mouth agape, Ginny shut the large doors and threw herself backward…right into someone.

"Oh, excuse me!" Ginny said apologetically, turning around with an apologetic smile. It faltered a small amount when recognition set in, but she bolstered it back up to a full one.

"No harm done – I had been looking for you, actually," Professor Martin said amiably.

Ginny dusted her gloved hands off on each other. "I've been out here for a while trying to get the last of the snow before it all melts. I'm surprised that there's any left."

"I can tell that you took advantage of that. Was it any fun?"

No, Ginny thought a tad sarcastically. I just like to frolic in snow because it looks like sugar from far away.

"I did thanks…yeah…" Ginny stood around awkwardly, waiting for the older woman to say something more. After a moment she thumbed her finger in the direction of the Great Hall. "I was going to get tea or cocoa to warm up…do you –"

"Oh, no!" Martin said quickly, ending Ginny's attempt at an invitation. "I'm fine. Actually, I was wondering if _you'd_ come along with me."

The girl looked up. "For a session? Did you send me an owl? I'm sorry I missed it –"

"Don't worry; this is purely impromptu; I thought it might be nice to start up again. If you can't come I'll understand. I didn't give you any notice, after all."

Ginny agreed very much; she might as well have been told that an "impromptu" meeting with a wizarding firing squad was waiting for her. But if _he_ was already waiting, she might as well…

"Is Malfoy there yet?" she asked.

"No, he's not," said Martin; she hurried on when Ginny's face went slack. "I asked him but he slipped away…I thought he might reconsider if he knew you had agreed."

Ginny laughed. "You know as well as I do that Draco Malfoy could care less. As a matter of fact, he'd love to know that I'd been waiting for him for ages in that room while he sat in his common room with his feet up."

With a last drag of her wet boots on the thick carpet to ensure that she wouldn't be tracking water on the floor, started off.

"Tomorrow's Monday; classes are starting up again," Ginny continued as Martin walked beside her. "Why can't we just wait until then? Mondays are on our normal counseling schedule anyway."

Martin thought for a moment and then looked sideways at the girl next to her. "The Hogwarts Express usually brings its pupils back a day, or two at most, before classes resume after holiday, right?"

Ginny nodded although she had been back at the castle for more than two days. Colin, Lark and the rest of the students had arrived the evening before, while the remaining Weasleys at Hogwarts, Harry, and Hermione had returned to Hogwarts four days prior to that – for extra protection.

"It's so that all of you can reorient yourselves inside the castle once more, unpack, and catch up with one another; I've yet to hear a student say that he or she wanted to wait until classes began to speak to their friends. You yourself were just outside having a good time, and you didn't think, 'Hey, I'm going to see them tomorrow in Potions or Charms anyway, so why speak to them now?' did you?"

"No."

"So why wait until a set session to see Mr. Malfoy when you're both currently available, and are free from the stresses of homework? It's not going to be so easy once lessons start up again. This sounds terribly hokey, but do you know that feeling of being utterly at ease when on holiday? Where for as long as you're away, you can do anything; say anything?"

Ginny nodded once more; that feeling was often followed up by the sinking one later on when holiday was over. She liked school – seeing friends were the best part, of course – but she dreaded returning to the feet of essays and obscure projects.

"Well, I think that you should treat this situation in the same way. Seek Draco out instead of avoiding him."

_'Screech!_' went Ginny's mind as it put on the brakes. She had been mentally agreeing full stop with every word of Professor Martin's sermon until that accusation.

"I'm not avoiding Malfoy any more than he's avoiding me!" Ginny stood in the middle of the corridor, threw her arms up dramatically, and spun around. "If you haven't noticed because this is your first year here and all, Hogwarts is a rather sizable castle. I'm not going to exactly turn around a corner and run smack dab into him."

Her eyes shifted over to the end of the hallway just to make sure.

It was Martin's turn to laugh. "I'm not asking you to let _destiny_ or _fate_ catapult you into him," she said smiling. "I've only recently started believing in things like that, myself. I _am_ asking you to take charge of the situation, sit down with him, and have a real conversation. Had someone taken charge of the Weasley/Malfoy feud years ago, the two of you might have been friends right now."

Ginny leaned onto the wall with a sigh. "Can we not play 'What If?' right now? This is the way things are, and I'm dealing with it to the best of my ability."

"Fine," said Martin. "How have your sessions alone been with him? You've been talking things out, I hope?"

"Sure!" Ginny said quickly, while the invisible devil on her shoulder snickered at the older woman. The only 'real' conversation they'd ever had had been right before Christmas holiday. Mostly they did homework and argued. "You really don't have to worry, you know."

Martin's brow rose. "I wouldn't be doing my job if I weren't. So I'm going to make an executive decision. I want you to see Draco today. It doesn't have to be for long!" she said, seeing Ginny's rising look of disbelief. "I thought you said you weren't avoiding him."

"I am not avoiding Draco Malfoy!" Ginny insisted. "I have no reason to avoid him, other than not wanting to pull my hair out when he opens his mouth to say something obnoxious. But enough about _him_, how was your holiday?" she asked, resuming their walk, trying not to think of the anxiety she felt at seeing a certain someone again.

Martin's shoulders rose in an elegant shrug. "It was nice. My family is very scattered, you see, so I don't see much of them. However, I've recently been reunited with a few of them and we spent time together."

"I've had my fair share of siblings for the time being," said Ginny.

Martin glanced at the young woman with interest. "How many do you have again?"

"Six," Ginny said, "All brothers."

"That's really quite…"

"Something?" supplied Ginny.

"Exactly." Martin took a breath. "Have you reaped any benefits from the experience?"

The redhead shrugged. "A tougher skin than I might have once had? An appreciation for quiet? A near immunity to testosterone driven rages?"

The older woman chuckled. "All very valuable things."

Ginny nodded, although she was thinking that there was one male's testosterone she wouldn't mind having an immunodeficiency toward…

"Would you say that it's made your dealings with other boys easier?"

Ginny faltered. She frowned at Martin, though not angry. "Is there something you're trying to get at, Professor Martin?"

The pretty woman lifted a dark eyebrow. "You were rather willing to come with me today. Usually I fear that I might need to restrain you."

Ginny bristled a small amount. It wasn't as if she behaved like a savage when the topic of Draco Malfoy came up! The nerve!

"I was coming inside for some cocoa anyway. Would you rather that I had dismissed you?"

"Oh," said the professor, undaunted by the redhead's tone. "I was only wondering. You seemed so happy with your friends in the snow. Might it have been because of your new scarf keeping you warm?"

One of Ginny's hands reached up to touch the material at her neck. She had almost run into a bit of trouble back at the Burrow when her mother had seen it. Ginny had thought of keeping the wonderful gift at the bottom of a sock drawer, and not taking it out until she returned to school. But the image of the soft wool spending all its time in a musty drawer was appalling. So she wore it every chance she could. A wonderful semi-bliss that was having such a nice present (from such a usually foul person) encapsulated her – and it had nothing to do with the specially insulated material.

At first, though, Molly had fretted that Ginny had stolen it.

"I know that very pretty things are hard to resist, Ginny, but going the way of a common criminal won't make you happy in the end, when it _truly_ matters." She had looked at Ginny very suspiciously. "Did you get it off that lay-about Mundungus Fletcher?"

"Of course not," Ginny said. She had been on the verge of saying that the twin's bought it, but her mother wouldn't have fallen for it. Fred and George would have loved to make a huge show out of buying a Geesh scarf for their sister. "It's from…it's from school. From Draco Malfoy…"

Molly paled. "Has it talked to you or anything like that?" she worried, putting a hand on her daughter's forehead. "Have there been any periods of time that you can't remember lately?"

Ginny had scowled and stepped away from her mother's smothering. "_No_, mum. I haven't been painting the walls of Hogwarts with clothing dye saying, '_Enemies of the Geesh, Beware_.' I assure you that I shall not set loose the killer ball of thread on the school. If I do, I'll make sure to tell everyone not to look the needles in the eye."

The matriarch had given Ginny a very stern look. "Watch your tone, young lady! I won't have you laying your sarcasm on me like your father lays those plugs all over the house. The difference is that I am not his mother, but I _am_ yours, and you won't make jokes like that again."

Ginny had mumbled a half-repentant "sorry", feeling very misunderstood; only Harry appreciated her dark humor. And Draco of course…But now he had gotten her into trouble by giving her the stupid scarf. Why hadn't she just shoved it in his face?

'Oh, right,' Ginny had been thinking, 'Because I was too busy shoving my face there.'

She realized that she would have to then tell her mother about Draco getting a gift, too. If not, Molly would continue to speculate about the scarf.

"He was forced to," she'd lied. "It was a mandatory assignment that we exchange gifts before holiday."

"As a goodwill gesture?" asked her mother.

"Exactly."

Although still a bit taken aback Molly had petted Ginny's neck lightly and smiled a little. She then went back to waving her wand at the chopping knives in the kitchen. They sprang to action and proceeded to create neat lines of perfectly round carrot circles. With another wave, she sent them into a steaming pot.

"Well, however disagreeable he may be, he does have nice taste."

Ginny watched the food simmer thinking about the way she had thanked him. "Yes, he does have a nice taste…in clothes!" she amended quickly. But her mother hadn't noticed the slip up at all.

She brought her mind back to the present and back to Martin's question.

"To spare the both of us a lot of time, Professor, I'm going to assume that you know Draco bought this for me."

"You're not one to beat around the bush, are you Miss Weasley?"

Ginny shrugged. "I'm simply curious to know where you plan on taking this. It's a scarf: a practical, impersonal, _slightly_ thoughtful gift at most. Reminiscent of something he might've also given to his grandmother."

"And you think that Mr. Malfoy looks at you in the same light as his grandmother."

'I should hope not!' Ginny shouted inwardly.

Outwardly she kept her composure. "I've been told that I'm very mature for my age."

"I'm sure they said mature; not deceased," Martin replied. "I always make sure to do a bit of research on my clients' backgrounds before they meet with me. It helps me to get the gist of their personalities. Mister Malfoy's grandparents are deceased on both sides."

Ginny skimmed over that last bit of information and thought of what Martin had first said. "You knew things about us already? What did you learn? What did it tell you? Because just reading cold, hard, facts on a lot of parchment doesn't mean much."

"Well I also had a consultation with a few other professors, and the Headmaster."

Ginny swallowed. "And?"

"_And_," Martin drew out, "They explained to me that the both of you have gone through a lot in the years you've been at school."

There was silence on the part of the redhead.

"Have you…have you ever thought about talking it over with Mr. Malfoy?"

"No," said Ginny succinctly. "And I don't plan to."

"It might be helpful –"

"I'm not broken! I don't need fixing! Least of all, I don't need to talk about the Chamber of Secrets with Draco Malfoy of all people."

"You shouldn't make him the villain, Miss Weasley. I'm sure that he wouldn't appreciate it."

Ginny countenance was sparkling with tension. "He won't feel that way if we bypass the whole topic."

Martin sighed. "If that's the way you want it."

Ginny realized that she had come farther away from the kitchens than intended, but she no longer wanted the extra warmth of a hot drink. Casting surreptitious glances at Professor Martin, and wondering how she could tell the woman that she wanted to sneak away without telling her outright, Ginny said,

"I should get that drink I came for."

Martin seemed suspiciously solemn to Ginny, and the redhead knew that she was being pitied to some degree. "Do you want company? I know I said that I wasn't in for a beverage before, but not all counseling has to take place in that room…"

"Professor; I'm, fine." She began to walk backward in the other direction, leaving the older woman behind. "I'll, er, see Malfoy later, if I can find him, all right?"

"Sure," Martin said, watching the girl leave, knowing that the kitchens weren't in the same direction as Gryffindor Tower.

Denial was truly something.

* * *

"Ginny?"

No answer.

"Ginny."

"…"

"Uh, no offense, but this is stupid. If you're trying to play Hide-and-Seek again, it's not going to work this time…I can see your hair coming out from under the blanket…Besides, we played it three times yesterday."

A small section of the scarlet blanket puffed up as Ginny's breath hit it. "I want to hide. But I don't want anyone to find me."

Colin sat down heavily next to his friend, put his arms behind his head and lay back. "How sad."

With mild irritation, Ginny pulled the top of the wool off of her now frazzled hair and stared balefully at her friend. "You wouldn't mock me if you knew why I wanted to disappear forever and never play Exploding Snap or anything else with you ever again."

"I'm not _that_ bad at it, Ginny."

She sighed. "It doesn't really have anything to do with cards." She took the rest of the cover off of her and put her head back as well. "I haven't been keeping up with telling you and Lark about the sessions."

"Don't feel guilty; we haven't really been asking. Aside from the Hogsmeade visit that you two were forced to go on, we didn't think much was happening."

Ginny thought about the exchanging of gifts, the truce they had called, and the non-mistletoe kiss…

"And you two were right – nothing's been going on at all. Until today. Martin wants me to talk about…it…"

Colin shifted in the couch. "It? There are many 'its', Ginny."

"Don't be daft, Colin. How many 'its' do you think relate to counseling, revealing childhood trauma, and a Malfoy, all at once?"

As realization flit across Colin's face, his mouth opened. "Ooh…Okay then…"

Ginny threw the blanket over her head once more. "I can't talk about that with them – you know I can't."

Colin slung a comforting arm around his friend. "Well I don't know about _can't_, Ginny."

"What d'you mean?" came the muffled response.

"You've gone over it with Harry at least ten times, haven't you? I'm sure it was less traumatizing by the sixth time."

"Seventh."

"This is going to sound ridiculous coming from me, but what are your real objections against telling Malfoy about our first year?"

The blanket came off. "You're right. You do sound ridiculous."

"Ginny, he'll hold it over your head if you let him know that the Chamber of Secrets is a weak spot."

The girl bent over and put her head in her lap. "I don't think he'd hold it against me, necessarily."

Colin was silent for a moment. "Wait, what?"

Ginny understood his confusion. She was defending Draco and accusing him of being heartless all in one breath; but it made sense to her.

There had been an invisible 'link' (for lack of a better word) built between them, and Ginny hoped that Draco would not be so merciless as to push her on the topic of the Chamber when Martin brought it up – which inevitably she would. Mostly, Ginny knew that the Slytherin had a morbid fascination with anything concerning Harry Potter and death. If Ginny were forced into talking about it, he would bypass the minor details of the giant serpent with killer eyes and an insane Dark Lord, and go straight to the part where Ginny was fooled into communicating with darkness itself. All the righteous indignation she had thrown at him over the past few months would seem hypocritical.

How could anyone respect someone such as herself? Especially Draco Malfoy, whom she had called the Dark Lord's lackey on more than once occasion.

"He doesn't care enough about me to hold it against me. You see if we were talking about you, or Hermione, or Harry, then I'd be worried about that. I think Malfoy would laugh; he'd mock me for it. And Colin, there would be nothing worse than him making the whole experience into something miniscule, and thinking that it was a stupid joke."

"That's why you were so angry with Harry for forgetting about it in fourth year?"

Ginny nodded. "To anyone else the Chamber of Secrets may never be anything but a bad prank, but _I'll_ never be able to think of it that way."

Colin frowned. "Well, obviously! I'd think there was something wrong with you if you _did_."

"But doesn't that leave me at the mercy of people who can?!" Ginny asked edgily.

"Only if you run away from it," he insisted calmly.

Ginny shook her head sadly. "I can't talk about this with him."

The pair sat in silence for a good ten minutes, Colin stroking Ginny's hair while she kept her face down. Then suddenly, Colin's jumped up; accidentally grabbing a fistful of Ginny's hair in his hand.

"Ouch!"

"Oh, sorry!"

He turned frantically to face Ginny, sitting cross-legged on the sofa. He turned her – while she shot him dirty looks – so that she faced him.

"I have an idea that should help you when Martin decides that you and Malfoy talk about the Chamber."

She rubbed her eyes listlessly. "I'm not going to talk about it."

Colin rolled his. "You just spent half an hour telling me that you would."

Red hair swayed back and forth as Ginny shook her head. "No, no, no. I said she _wants_ me to discuss it. I never said that in the event of that situation arising, she'd be able to _make_ me. I'd rather die."

"I think it'd be better for all involved if you just let it out in the open."

Ginny sat quietly in rumination for a minute. "Fine. I will. If Malfoy wants to."

"I don't see how he _wouldn't_ want to discuss this!" Colin replied loudly. "It'd be like getting presents after Christmas. Ginny Weasley's pride on a platter; Ginny Weasley the sacrificial lamb. Rita Skeeter couldn't come up with better rag than that."

The redhead's eyes narrowed dangerously and Colin coughed to cover up his misstep. "Well, no, not _rag_; Ginny, you know what I mean."

She crossed her arms. "As much as you hear me clear as day. I'm not talking about the Chamber of Secrets with either one of them unless Draco – Malfoy concedes to wanting to hear about it."

Ginny knew that her plan was as feeble as a flobberworm, but she continued to hold out hope that if Draco understood her reluctance, he wouldn't force the subject. Hadn't they come to an understanding about some things?

"Ginny, I can't help but feel that you're being entirely over idealistic about this whole situation. We both know that Malfoy's not a saint – and sinners love nothing more than hearing about each other's tragedies."

Cool eyes turned upon Colin. "So you think I'm a sinner?"

Colin was unfazed; he'd dealt with it before. "In his eyes you'll be nothing but." He shrugged. "I don't think you are, but it wouldn't matter if you were; everyone's committed crimes in the past, Ginny. Not all of them end up as criminals." Instead of that statement reassuring her, Ginny looked even more morose, so he went on. "For example, I stole some candy from a shop near my house once. I hardly think myself worthy of Azkaban."

She sighed heavily and tried to drudge up a grin from the murky depths of her conscience. "I beg to differ. You've got a wickedly criminal way with words, Sir Colin."

"Of course. I've been around you for so many years that you shouldn't expect anything else. To get back on track, though, I'll rephrase my previous statement. _In the event_ that you have no choice but to speak on your first year, I think it would do you some good to have practice. With me."

Ginny laughed a little. "Creevey, you're hardly a Malfoy."

Colin was relentless. "Just try me on."

Another sigh. "All right." Ginny clasped her hands together and looked Colin straight in the eyes. "Hey there, er, Malfoy…I'd like to – well, I have to – talk about some things with you. Things about my first year."

It was as if an invisible Malfoy-veil had been draped over Ginny's best friend. Colin sat up straighter, tilted his head up slightly so that he looked down his nose on Ginny, and inspected his nails.

"If you must," he drawled. Ginny gaped for a full moment before laughing a little and continuing.

"Right. Well, in my first year – your second –"

"Obviously," drawled Colin; Ginny glared.

"In that year I was possessed by Tom Riddle; Lord Voldemort."

"Clever," Colin drawled once more.

Ginny had had enough. "I can't do this! Your face is yours, but the way you're acting…"

"Well what did you expect, Weasley? You tell me that you ventured into the Chamber of Secrets without bringing me along and assume that I'll be civil? Have you had too many Fainting Fancies?"

"Colin!" Ginny shrieked, trying to be angry, but failing. She was about to erupt in laughter.

Colin put his hands down and looked evenly at Ginny. "Is something funny, Weasel?" He looked around. "I don't see your brother anywhere near here, so there shouldn't be anything mildly amusing. Certainly the subject matter we're currently discussing isn't tickling your funny bone. If it is, you're more defective than I thought."

Ginny's eyes watered and she clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh my god…you're too good at this…"

Flittingly, a very Colin-like grin came across the transformed face. He leaned forward and touched his wand to Ginny's temple; briefly, she felt breathless. Before a full minute though, Colin turned around so that his back was to Ginny and pulled his wand in front of him. Ginny only heard mumbled spells, but couldn't make much out

All she knew was that when Colin turned back around, his face was…it was eerily reminiscent of a certain Slytherin seventh year's.

Colin's chin seemed more pointed, which changed his familiar, carefree visage into one that was considerably less happy-go-lucky. His cheekbones were a bit more prominent, his nose…well…daintier, somehow. Maybe more aristocratic. Although Colin's eyes were the same at first glance, Ginny thought them lighter than usual. And lastly, the most perfect detail that Colin had conjured, were the lips: the bottom one fuller than the top, almost femininely so, but the cynical and inherent sensual twist in them was more masculine than anything. Ginny remembered it well.

"So what do you think?" Ginny heard the lips say – er, Ginny heard _Colin_ say.

She tried not to stare at the bottom of his face, and to instead concentrate on the eyes, which were probably the most un-Draco-like feature that Colin's transfigured face had taken on. They were only a few shades away from the proper Malfoy one, but she doubted that even the right color would give them the right…dynamic.

But maybe she was just being picky.

"Colin…" Ginny said, "It's unreal…What did you do? Did Hermione teach you that?"

He nodded. "It's a photographer's trick, you see. Sometimes I'll take a picture of a landscape, or a person, or a scene that looks gorgeous at that moment, but later when I develop it, it's far from spectacular. So what I'll do is get out a piece of clean parchment, put my wand to my temple –"

"Like you did with me?"

"Exactly. And I'll place the image I had in my mind on it. Most times the image is rather close to what I originally had in mind, and I'll know what contrast or dimension I wanted. A lot of the time I'll just retake the picture with hopefully the same setting that was present the first time. But in those times that I can't, it helps to see it clearer."

Ginny was still in a bit of awe. "Sounds sort of like a pensieve."

Colin nodded rapidly once more. "That's where Hermione found the spells; from a book on pensieves. She thought I'd like to know it and helped me get the hang of it."

"But you used it on your face! Something could have gone wrong."

"I combined it with a few Transfiguration spells. If it goes horribly awry I'll go to Pomfrey. Otherwise I'll let it wear off naturally. But what do you think? Is it accurate?"

Ginny found herself trying not to seem uncomfortable. "I told you that it was unreal." Her hand lifted up and traced the finer contours of Colin's new face. The eyebrows were even rather similar. Ginny let her index finger go to her best friend's jawbone and then across to his mouth. It was amazing…

Only the slightly disconcerted look on Colin's face made her draw back.

She cleared her throat. "Yeah; for the most part it's quite close. Naturally, there are some things that aren't the same."

"Like?" asked Colin.

"Well, your eyes aren't identical to Malfoy's. And I can still see that small birthmark you have on the right side of your chin. But…er…the, ah…your mouth is just like his, you know." Colin's eyes narrowed, making Ginny struggle not to fidget. "But not the eyes."

"I didn't think I'd get one-hundred percent precision. Hermione told me, though, that the parts of the duplicated image which were most accurate to my real vision, were a result of the image in my head being ingrained in my memory."

Ginny laughed loudly. "I can definitely say that that theory doesn't pan out. Memory schmemory. In that case, why aren't your eyes just like his? It's '_ingrained_' in my memory how he glares at me all the time, so it would follow that those would be more accurate than, er, your – his – lips."

"I dunno, Ginny," said Colin innocently. "Why do you think that it's the other way around then?"

Her hands clenched in her lap. "I'm not sure." She smiled once more. "It could always be that I watch him taunt me all the time, so I recognize the sarcastic tilt to his mouth."

Colin was still watching her with hippogryff-like intensity.

"I'm not an expert on this spell, so I can't really say."

"All right, then," Colin said. "Shall we continue practicing?"

Ginny jumped up from her seat so fast that she almost toppled out of it. "No! That's enough. I reckon I'm ready to handle anything that comes my way."

Colin stood as well. "We haven't done much of anything, though."

Ginny blinked. "I can't do it with you looking like him."

"Why not?"

"It's weird!"

"I thought it might help," Colin piped.

She blinked once more. "Er, no, I can't say it has."

"Ginny," her friend began, "You really shouldn't bottle the anxiety from your first year up…"

"Colin," she said back, "You really shouldn't be looking like Draco Malfoy."

"True…" he agreed. "If I change my face back, though, are you going to stick around?"

Ginny sidestepped him and walked backward to the portrait. "I can't. I've got to go to the loo."

She felt jittery, and tense, and very tired all at the same time. She needed to go for a nice, mind clearing walk through the halls. Or maybe get that drink she wanted. Was it possible for the elves to add a shot of fire whiskey to it?

"There's one upstairs," argued Colin.

"The one that the Room of Requirement makes is nicer."

"That's an awful lot of trouble to go through for a bladder call, Ginny."

She smacked her forehead. "Why are we discussing this?"

"Because for some reason, you know an awful lot about Draco Malfoy's face."

"Well I have been spending a heap of time with him! What did you expect? I obviously know he hasn't got purple hair, twelve ear piercings, and a magical eye."

"I'm talking about _details_, Ginny. You know the _details_."

"Colin. You're demented." She reached the Fat Lady. "I've got to go."

The boy walked quickly over to his friend. "All right, I'm sorry! Just help me take this face off!" He poked his wand at his head and muttered various incantations. Nothing happened.

"What did you do?!" Ginny said shrilly.

"I don't know!"

Ginny put her hands up as if in defense from Colin's mishap. "Nope. No. No way. I can't help with this. This is too much for me."

"Ginny!"

But the girl had quickly hopped out of the portrait. Colin followed quick on her heels. "You can't leave me like this!"

Ginny strode purposefully down the hall in pursuit of some semblance of sanity. "That's what Pomfrey's for!"

"She'll ask too many questions!"

"I'm sure you'll make a fine couple, as you both have that in common."

"Not funny, Weasley…"

"Stop pretending to be him!" she shouted.

"I'm not! As you can see," he shouted back, now hitting himself on the head rather sharply with his wand, "I'm trying to be myself again!"

"I won't want to deal with you, either."

"Oh, come on, Ginny!"

"Go to Pomfrey, Colin!"

"She's not as gentle!"

Ginny stopped in her tracks, giving Colin enough time to catch up. "Are you mad?"

"Please…"

She started her marathon walk once more. "I've said my piece. I can say no more."

"She'll massacre me! She'll tell McGonagall! And they'll both be all sarcastic…"

Ginny sped up as they neared a corner.

"I might as well have gone to Pansy Parkinson for T.L.C.!" he belted out after his best friend.

There are some things in nature, in the universe, that are so unexplainable it would give many a talented, learned philosopher a sizable migraine. The constant spinning of the planets and the circumstantial effect on the people that looked up at those heavenly bodies either had nothing to do with the lives of the inhabitants of the earth down below, or everything.

It really all depended on whom one asked.

If one were to ask Professor Trelawney, they would get a firm, inexorable – and probably longwinded – account of how the planets affected the ordinary person. If one were to ask Professor McGonagall, she'd give a disgruntled but diplomatic negative – the rotations of Neptune and Saturn on a Sunday afternoon in winter had nothing to do with anything.

But if one were to ask Ginny Weasley if the claws of cruel fate had scraped into her life, or if coincidence was just rampant, she'd not be able to give any answer whatsoever.

That's because Ginny Weasley would be crying – inwardly of course, but weeping bitter tears all the same.

Because cruel fate, or coincidence, or the rotations of Neptune and Saturn on a Sunday afternoon in winter, had deemed it necessary that she should turn a corner in Hogwarts – while one of her best friends put the phrase, "tender, loving, care" and Pansy Parkinson in the same sentence – and come face to face with one Draco Malfoy.

The three of them stood there for at least five minutes (which can be a long time when experiencing agony, such as Ginny was), just looking at one another. Ginny's face was frozen in a mask of disbelief, unsure whether to blush or blanch, as the seconds ticked away.

"I needed to speak with you," Draco said slowly, his eyes staying glued to hers, only flickering momentarily at Colin's disturbing appearance, and then back to Ginny's. "But now I find myself wishing that I hadn't woken up this morning."

"There's a perfectly good explanation for this," Ginny said, stepping forward.

Colin tilted his artificially pointed chin in the air, looking even more like the older blond. "You don't need to explain anything to him, Ginny."

Draco went to stare incredulously at Colin's audacity when the sound of quick footsteps came closer to them. From even far away, Ginny knew that it was Lark and Dean. They looked at Draco first, then at Ginny, then Colin. Their faces went slack.

"Great Merlin," Dean breathed, his head swiveling between Colin and Draco.

The real Draco Malfoy's eyebrow lifted. "The majority of us seem to have missed something. Care to fill us in Weasley?" Agonized, Ginny held her head in her hands while the questioning looks went around like free food.

"This is horrifying," she croaked.

Draco snorted ungraciously. "You're telling _me_? I've just found out what I'd look like if the Mediwitch dropped me on my face when I was born."

Ever composed, Lark edged over to Colin and poked his sleeve with her finger, not wanting to touch him too much.

"I'm not defective," said the transfigured sixth-year, miffed that his other best friend looked as if she wanted safe-guarded gloves before touching him.

"Don't be so sure about that, Colin Creepy," said Draco.

Lark ignored him and gestured over to Dean. "Maybe we should go…I think they're going to a session…or something…it's too late for a Halloween party…"

"The Mudblood can think," Draco quipped.

"Shut it!" Dean, Colin, and Ginny shouted simultaneously.

"Why are you all yelling at me? I'm the only one here who has the right to be disgruntled."

"I told you never to say that word around me again!" Ginny told him angrily.

"My present shock has caused a lapse in memory, Weasley."

"I'm so sure," she snapped.

"Well, then, my dear…Since your spice is obviously back, would you please inform me why Creevey is wearing my face?"

"Don't get smart with her!" Colin defended. "We only wanted your face to practice on you realistically!"

Lark had been in the process of tugging Colin and Dean away from the disturbing scene, but after that declaration, her arm when limp. A grin spread across Draco's lips as Ginny shot a death glare at her foolish best friend.

"It's not the way it sounds," she protested, trying to clear the situation up.

Draco tapped his foot to a beat only he heard. "It's not the way it looks, it's not the way it sounds…But, Weasley, if it looks like a duck and sounds like one, it's obviously not a blast-ended skrewt."

"And what does this look and sound like to you?" Ginny asked daringly.

Draco shrugged loosely. "A bit like you wanted to practice at making magic with a Malfoy before making the real sparks fly."

Ginny went red as a ripe tomato.

Lark's eyes grew to twice their normal size.

Colin choked.

"Great…Merlin…" Dean breathed.

"Anyone who's uncomfortable right now, say 'aye'," Lark ordered equably. "Aye."

"Aye."

"Aye."

"Aye!"

The three sixth years and Dean stared malevolently at Draco who had remained silent, looking as if he had stumbled upon nothing more than a picnic ruined by a few ants.

"All right, then," continued the raven-haired girl. "All those in favor of adjourning to…somewhere other than here – and maybe the Hospital Wing for you, Colin – follow me." She smiled plaintively at her friend and beckoned for Ginny to come along. Dean quickly went in step with Lark; Colin followed morosely, and Ginny allowed herself to be shepherded off with the three.

"Where do you think you're going?" Draco asked, grabbing the redhead's arm before she could sneak off successfully.

Ginny's eyes traced up her upper arm where Draco held her, to his face, and she pointed at her friends' retreating backs.

"I said 'aye'. I'm in favor of adjourning to…somewhere other than here…" she informed him miserably.

"But I need to talk to you," he said plainly.

"Let me guess; Martin's orders."

"You're a regular Seer."

"Right; thanks. I'll be going now."

"No, you won't."

Ginny loosed her arm from his grip – later on she reflected that he hadn't been holding on all that tight – and prepared herself for an argument. Looking him dead in the eyes, Ginny opened her mouth to berate him; but her eyes shifted around him and down the hall.

"Well, there she is now," she told the blond.

Draco turned around…and no one was there. However, the sound of Ginny's footsteps scampering off was certainly clear enough.

* * *

"Oh, it is a pleasure to see Harry Potter's Wheezy Girl! Especially when she should be with her friends!"

"You know how much I love visiting you all down here, so don't worry about it."

"Miss is too kind!" Dobby cried, wringing his hands animatedly. Ginny could do nothing but grin; her previous feelings of horror taking backseat. It was always nice to come to the kitchens and get such a warm welcome for just being there. This emancipated house elf had always been rather excitable when it came to visits from Harry, and friends of Harry, but over the years he had calmed down. Ginny knew that the only reason for his current state was because Dobby hadn't seen them in so long; Ginny was free to assume that she was the first of the group to see the elf.

"How was your holiday, then?" she asked walking further into the room and pulling a short wooden stool over to the side so that she would not get in the way of the busy elves. She smiled at them all as they passed and some returned the gesture, or gaped back at her.

"It was not special, Miss. Dobby stayed in the castle with other elves who did not visit the homes where their families work. But sometimes, the Headmaster let Dobby bring him tea and refill the lemon drop saucer! _Even_ visit the wizarding town Hogsmeade for new socks!" Dobby half-gasped, half-whispered. "Does Miss know if The Great Harry Potter, his Granger, his Wheezy, and Miss got their socks? Dobby sent them."

Ginny smiled and nodded. "We got them just fine. Actually, I know for a fact that my brother is wearing them right now. They're really warm, you know, and we were out in the snow – well, they still are – so they helped. Thanks for mine, by the way. I loved the design."

One sock was red, green, and white, with stars and trees floating around it; the other was black and had a huge, red heart on it. But from far away, very, very far away, one _might_ not be able to tell the difference.

Dobby blushed and his eyes went large. "Dobby is so happy to give Harry Potter's other Wheezy warmth. Dobby is also happy at the generosity of Miss and her family and friends." (The elf had gotten a brand new set of fresh aprons in three different colors, with random sock colors to sort of match). "Dobby was most moved that in the letter, Miss's family and friends called Dobby _friend_!" A fat tear leaked out from the corner of his eye and he clutched his dishrag frenetically.

Suddenly he stood ramrod straight. "Miss was in the cold?! Dobby is most ashamed not to have asked what Miss would be wanting to drink. Is Miss wanting hot cocoa or tea? Tea with milk and sugar, or milk _or_ sugar? How many lumps?"

"Er, actually, just hot chocolate would be fine."

Dobby turned quickly on his heel to run and get Ginny's drink, but Ginny told him to slow down; she had nowhere to go, anyway.

From behind her she heard quiet sniggering.

"Shouldn't you be off helping them, Wheezy?"

With nervous anticipation at recognizing the voice, Ginny turned her head to see Draco leaning in the doorway with a huge smirk on his face.

"I never knew that some people were so familiar with the help, Miss Wheezy-Girl."

While Ginny had gotten used to being referred to as 'Wheezy-Girl' by Dobby who needed to differentiate between her and Ron, it was a very different thing to hear it coming out of Draco's lips.

"I'm sure you're very familiar with this elf in particular, though," she settled for saying. His questioning look was answered when Dobby came whizzing back with the chocolate in a large cup and whipped cream wobbling softly on top. Dobby set it down carefully on a table a few feet from Ginny and ushered her to get up and sit in the more comfortable chair that was next to it. He smiled gleefully at his good service and Ginny wondered how he would react when he noticed the person standing in the entrance.

"Master would like the same, Dobby, but with less cream," Draco said in the most authoritative voice he could conjure. Dobby's head snapped up so fast that his long ears wobbled. His eyes went wide for a second, and his hand twitched, as if looking for an iron to run over his fingers. But then, to Ginny's surprise he drew himself up and said,

"Dobby has no master except for the Headmaster Dumbledore. Dobby will get Mister Malfoy's beverage, not because he is Mister Malfoy's servant, but because Dobby must do his job well."

He then looked shiftily at Ginny who gave him an encouraging smile, and he scurried off. Ginny looked back at Draco, expecting to see some kind of abashment, but all she found was him shaking with laughter.

"You should be ashamed of the way you treat him after all these years," Ginny said reproachfully.

Draco laughed more and pulled up another chair to sit across from Ginny. "But isn't it funny how I'm not?"

"He'd give you a little more respect if you gave him something back in return."

"Like socks?" asked Draco. "Those are fine for you to give him. I'm sure they're put to good use when he thinks about you, alone in his elf hole, late at night…but they wouldn't do anything for me."

Ginny nearly gagged. "All right, fine. I'm sorry about running off like I did. There were…pressing matters to attend to."

"Such as coming to the kitchens?"

"Culinary expertise is my life."

Draco shook his head a bit and sat back quietly in his chair. She sighed with relief and watched him as he received his order a few minutes later. Now that he was being silent, Ginny was able to detect a certain amount of unease in his posture. Of course, Draco usually had good carriage; however it was only this tense when he was thinking about something supposedly serious. She remembered with annoyance that one of his "serious" thoughts had once been if Hermione had ever been attacked by something in her hair, and almost chose to remain quiet.

In any case she adopted an unassuming look and began to make small talk.

"I thought you would be the type to order tea."

Calm gray eyes settled on Ginny's face. "It would've been too watery."

She scooped some of the whipped cream off the top with a spoon and put it in her mouth. "Tea at Hogwarts is never watery if the house elves make it. I bet you've just got a sweet tooth. I watched Dobby make it at that counter over there, and he put at least two teaspoons of extra sugar in it."

Draco's tense pose seemed to ease up a bit. "I admit nothing and deny everything."

"What about all of those care parcels from home I always saw you getting when you were younger? I bet they were filled to the brim with motherly love in every chocolately morsel, you brat, you."

"Only if you consider motherly love to be in the form of The Chocolate Tier Bakery. My mother would never stick her hand in a batch of chocolate like some commoner – she rarely even eats any."

Ginny sensed the mischievous undertones in his voice and her smile widened; she tried to cover it with a hand and a speculative pose.

"I see…watching her figure so that the husband will want to continue 'watching her figure' as well?"

"I could do without the image," Draco said dryly, though it was more of an order.

"If you insist…"Ginny said slowly.

"I do."

"Does it have your approval?" she asked next.

Draco glanced at the girl across from him. "It's a little on the flat side; my new house elf makes better. This will just have to do, though."

"What a martyr you are."

"As always," he said flatly, trying not to let Ginny feel too at ease.

Martin had tried to trap him in a corner after catching him walking around the castle, and all but begged him to wait in The Room while she retrieved his "counterpart" – her words not his. However, he wanted to see Ginny again on his own terms, and told Martin that he would wait until the next day to have a nice chat with the Gryffindor.

Besides, he wasn't even ready to face the girl again after weeks of separation. It had been no small task to flush her out of his mind during his stay at the manor, and he was not looking forward to her intrusion on the new resistance he'd developed against her.

At the same time, he was angry that she'd left him with a diminutive peck at the end of term during their gift exchange. Instead, he'd had to satisfy himself with replaying the crystal ball she gave him (that was, he watched it when he dared himself to take it out of the bottom of his deepest drawer). There was a certain amount of pleasure he derived from observing himself being walloped in miniature doll form; Draco was beginning to think that he was imbalanced.

His mother had called him a "distracted oaf" more than once during holiday; on hearing that, Lucius made doubly sure that his son understood in no uncertain terms that he was prohibited from falling victim to sloth and distraction. After all, "distraction – not solely feeble-mindedness, was what really made the stupid, stupid", his father had told him. And Draco was not to allow a wandering mind to encroach upon his studies. Remembering all of his Potions was important so that he could detect poisons in his food with the best of them. Herbology was necessary so that he could undermine dufferheads such as Sprout and Longbottom. Charms a requisite for enchanting unsuspecting fools, and Defense so that he'd be able to research the offensive halves at a later time.

It was all a lot of work and after less than a week Draco had triumphed at filtering dreams of Ginny (day and night) out of his subconscious.

Now he was back at Hogwarts.

Goody.

"How are your parents?"

Draco looked up. "Don't worry, Lucius is still breathing."

Ginny sighed. "A girl can dream, can't she?"

"Sure," said Draco. He remembered Martin saying something about Ginny being outside, 'playing with friends'. "How was your romp in the snow?"

Ginny smiled at him again and Draco felt himself warm up. It was just the hot chocolate. It always did that.

"Jolly," she said dryly. "I'm glad that I came back here a while before classes started up again; all the snow's melted back home."

"About that – I heard that you've been back since last week. Why?"

Ginny looked away from him and shrugged. "It was just more convenient this year."

His eyes narrowed. "You mean for Potter." Ginny wasn't able to come up with an answer right away, so Draco knew that was his answer. It was easy for him to forget when it was just the two of them, that the sixth year was connected to Potter and Dumbledore, and all of those other figures. It was probably best just to forget, most of the time.

So uncharacteristically letting her off the hook he said flippantly, "Want to talk about the snow again, Weasley?"

Ginny looked into her cup with intense interest. "Yes please." At length she chanced another look at him. "Did you have fun in it too?"

Draco smirked. "Do I look like the type to play in the snow? Well, unless it's to throw some at someone…I did have fun doing that to the house elves when I was younger. See, they'd have to go out and melt it before it got to high, and I'd aim it at their ears. If you think getting snow in human ears it bad, imagine it when they're three times that size."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Woot."

"Well you asked."

"I didn't think that you could corrupt snow into projectiles of doom against defenseless creatures."

"Elves aren't _defenseless_, and I'd like to see how Granger would take that if you put that notion into her big bushy head. As a matter of fact, an elf made my bathwater scalding hot one time. Had I not tested it beforehand I probably would have been sent to Mungo's for treatment."

Ginny was unsympathetic, but a bit suspicious. "I don't think you left it at that."

A growing feeling of unease settled around Draco. In truth, he hadn't left the elf unpunished, but for some reason he didn't want Ginny to know it.

"You already know the answer."

"I want to hear you say it."

"You want to hear what I did to it?" he asked. "Doesn't that make you just as demented? If that's what turns you on…"

"You made it get in the water didn't you," Ginny accused. She had put her cup down. It was still half full and he wondered if it was getting cold. Probably not. There were charms against that type of thing.

Draco paused and looked at Ginny evenly. "It was that or ironing fingers."

"I think the latter would have been better!"

"It wouldn't have been _equal_, though. If someone chops your arm off, you don't give them a paper cut and be done with it."

Ginny flushed indignantly. "It's not like you were burned – you hadn't gotten in the water! You knew it wasn't right to do something like that."

Draco shook his head slowly and leaned forward. "Don't make me out to be something I'm not. It's childish."

"I thought I told you not to come back here an arsehole."

"And I listened to you; I haven't returned any different than when I left. The distance has just made you remember that _I'm_ the person you kissed under mistletoe, not whomever you thought you molded me into." Ginny went red and Draco continued. "I was half afraid that I'd have to beat you away with a stick when you next saw me."

"Don't worry about that at all," Ginny said quietly staring at her cup on the table.

The blond continued to look at her and she could feel his eyes on her face. "It's inevitable that you're not going to like me most of time when you learn more about me during these oh-so-wonderful sessions. But before you go running back to your friends to tell them just what an awful monster Draco Malfoy is, remember that he's the one whose scarf you haven't taken off for one second, even though it's boiling inside the kitchens." She didn't say anything and his frustration began to mount. "Or you can always give it back."

Ginny turned her head to him with a taut face. "I'm not going to, you know. I don't give gifts back." Her gaze returned to the cup. "And my friends already know you're a monster." Draco was about to take it the wrong way until he saw that her posture had somewhat relaxed.

"And I'm not going to tell them I was in the kitchens with you."

"I've got the picture."

"Good…Besides, I didn't kiss you under any mistletoe."

"Right, right – the miscalculation."

"It won't happen again," Ginny said swiftly.

Draco's brow rose. "The miscalculation or the kiss?"

Her cheeks turned a bit pink. "Take a guess, idiot."

He opened his mouth to reply when the door to the kitchens swung open loudly to reveal none other than Professor Martin.

"What a coincidence!" Draco said with mock cheer.

Martin looked down at him, undaunted by his tone and nodded. A house elf other than Dobby scampered to their table and asked for Martin's order. She gave it, took yet another chair that was sitting around, and pulled it up the table.

"It seems that you found him like I said you would, doesn't it Ginny?" she asked.

The girl gave her a long-suffering look. "I didn't go looking for him. And it's a sad thing that he came down here; he's in prat mode."

"Still at odds I see," said Martin.

Suddenly, a loud _crack_! sounded and a round silver tray was sitting in the middle of the table. On it were two refilled mugs of hot chocolate (their old ones had vanished), and a smaller cup with steaming chamomile tea, and what smelled like honey. Ginny was distantly reminded of the incense in Trelawney's room and shook the image away.

"No, nothing like that; Malfoy has simply been telling me horror stories from his childhood. We're bonding."

The blond kept his mouth shut despite the fact that Ginny was trying to 'get his goat' (he'd never been especially fond of that expression – what the hell would a Malfoy be doing with a bloody farm animal?). His strange relief that she wasn't too put off by his house elf story was acute. He didn't care if she liked him, exactly, but he wouldn't want her to think him evil.

"It's probably not as simple as all that," Martin said dryly. "But I won't force you to tell me; I want you two to be forthcoming with anything you have to say. If I make you, you'll only hold more resentment which is obviously not very productive."

Draco rolled his eyes while looking down at his cup but remained silent.

"And I have to say that I'm very pleased with the steps you two have taken to create a healthier relationship between your houses and families; exchanging gifts was very thoughtful on both your parts."

Ginny cast a cursory glance at Draco; he caught it from the corner of his eye (with mute satisfaction) but gave no indication that he noticed her ogling. Yes, he surmised, she was ogling him.

"On the same note of my satisfaction at your progression, I'm glad that you brought up the topic of Draco sharing some of his thoughts, or memories, or _whatever_ they were with you. You see, I had an idea a few minutes ago, and I came down here to think it out where I would be afforded extra privacy."

A cacophony of bangs and clangs lit into the air as a multitude of pots fell of a shelf somewhere behind them.

"Yes indeed," said Draco. "This quiet is almost surreal."

Ginny gulped down some of her drink to cover her smile. Martin ignored both of them.

"I believe that Mr. Malfoy has launched the exercise, Miss Weasley; so it is your turn. What do you believe is the worst thing that you've ever done to someone?"

Draco snickered lowly. "The worst thing that _Miss Wheezy_ here has done was probably step on a glowworm in the grass. I'm sure that she stopped herself before actually committing the crime, or else the trauma from such deed might have incapacitated her until now."

"Ha ha," Ginny said without much feeling. She didn't seem very keen on participating or speaking in general all of a sudden, and Draco wondered why. He would have preferred not to do some nut-job task, but Martin was obviously getting very comfortable and didn't plan on leaving until they bared their souls. There was no point in sulking about it.

Ginny looked contemplative and placed her cup on a saucer back on the silver tray.

"Stalling for time?" Draco asked her, smirking. She ignored him and sat back in her chair, trying to get relaxed. "Out with it!"

"Shut it," Ginny demanded, earthy eyes snapping onto his.

Draco's smirk only widened. "I didn't take half the time you are in revealing my dark side," he said matter-of-factly.

"That's because you've got no shame," Ginny informed him. "And what else would you reveal? The pink and fuzzy side?"

"_Never_," said the blond firmly. "I shudder to think how that would clash with my complexion."

"It can't look any worse on you than complacency," she muttered.

"That's not a color, Weasley," Draco refuted, enjoying the show of Ginny's fists balling up in her lap. "And if it were, it'd be some shade of blue, maybe even green; and we all know that I look _darling_ in green."

"You know, I really feel my up-chuck reflexes contracting."

Draco made a disgusted face and shifted away from Ginny. "Use the bin if you plan on being sick all over the room. Don't be uncouth."

"I didn't mean I was going to spew on you, Malfoy; I meant the reflex wherein my fist comes up and chucks you in the face…maybe the stomach. Anywhere it'll hurt the most."

"Could you be any more vulgar?" Draco asked. Ginny was about to retort when he looked wickedly at Martin who had a frown on her face. "And stop trying to change the subject; I'm really trying to learn more about you, but I can't do that if you're not going to be open with me."

Ginny watched Professor Martin straighten up in her seat and nod slowly in agreement. The girl turned an impossible shade of red. She thought inwardly about Colin's decree that it would be better for all to discuss her first year, but in the end wasn't able to follow through.

"Please do go on, Miss Weasley."

The redhead's mouth tightened noticeably and she looked away from both the occupants in the room with obvious unease.

"When I was younger I made Fred break his leg – Fred is one of my older twin brothers; the other is George. They, erm, graduated a few years ago," she told Martin, in the event that the professor was ignorant of who the twins were.

But Martin nodded and gave a small smile. "I've heard of them – they own a shop in Hogsmeade?"

Ginny nodded.

"How did you break – Fred's, was it? – Fred's leg?"

Ginny sighed audibly and shifted for a second. "Fred and George are huge pranksters, and they loved when I'd try to help them with their inventions. But a lot of the time they wouldn't let me; I suppose I was getting in their way. Once, I was upset that they were excluding me, and so I crept into the linen closet at the head of the stairs on the second floor and waited until they came out of their room – I was just going to scare them, you know; to show them I was good at surprises, too. When the time came, Fred had been running out of his room all excited – he'd most likely created a new monster with my mother's stash of potions and cooking ingredients – and so he wasn't on his guard like he usually was. When I jumped out of the closet and, er, 'Boo-d!' at him, it really took him by surprise and he missed the top step and fell down the rest of them."

"Wow…" Martin said eyes inquisitive but warm. "How was he? You must have felt guilty; I know I would have."

"Oh, I did," Ginny clarified. "Right up until my mother brought him back from St. Mungo's. Fred went back up the top of the stairs and told me to do it again. He said there was a point when he had 'a wicked slide down the fourth stair from the top'. Then George queued up behind him and inquired as to whether I could be a bratty, dangerously impetuous younger sister once more and give him a bit of a shove down the landing as well. For purely thrill seeking purposes, they said."

To Ginny's surprise Martin laughed. "I'd love to meet those two sometime. Had I accidentally caused such a mishap, my sister would never be so quick to forgive me. She'd claim that she had seen it happening but chose to let me continue with my childish whim – I would have been punished later anyway; my parents always favored her."

"I can relate," Ginny said to the woman, calmer than she had been before the story, but still fidgety. Martin pretended not to notice Ginny's obvious discomfort, but Draco was not as discreet. He stared openly at Ginny with a frown on his lips.

"So that's your story?" he queried, voice seeming to engulf the now silent area. Ginny's eyes locked onto his.

"Sorry it wasn't more entertaining. Should I have chosen a gore-filled story with protruding bones, pale corpses lying on the ground, blood, slime, and muck?"

"That would certainly have been more accurate," he prodded.

Ginny eyes turned into turned to ice, which gave them startling clarity. And they were saying 'Back off or else.' Draco took no heed of the warning. How would it be fair for her to judge him based on a stupid prank when he was younger, when she had done something much more dangerous?

"Maybe it would have been. But you don't know a damned thing about it, so you should keep your mouth shut."

"Miss Weasley…" warned Martin.

"This session is over," Ginny said with finality. She quickly uncurled her legs out from under her and stood up; limbs numb from the position and went for the door. Draco leapt up and stood in front of her, ignoring the disapproval written all over his counselor's face.

"I'm sick of you walking away at the first sign of a nasty spat. It's disgusting and cowardly –"

"You've done the same thing, Draco Malfoy!" Ginny shouted furiously. "So move your pasty –"

"I vote that we discuss _your_ issues for once!"

"Not with you!" Ginny said in such a voice that was neither whisper nor full-throated bellow. Was she not making it clear enough for him that this topic was out-of-bounds? What was he on that day? "Never with you. So get out of my way."

"Draco," said Martin, watching the scene unravel with a remote feeling of dread. "Let her be; if she's not ready to –"

"Am _I_ ever ready when she wants to have it out with me?! We can tease and taunt each other and she can think the worst of me, but when something comes up that hints at her indoctrination to the dark side, she wants to let it lie? No! She's just as evil as she thinks I am, and not any better –"

"Don't you think I know that?"

"Then say it!"

"Mister Malfoy!"

"I've nothing to prove to you."

"Oh, really? Then what happened? Go on and pull the skeletons out of the Chamber."

Ginny's mouth shut so quickly that she bit the inside of her lip. She stared at Draco with unconcealed contempt and betrayal. The blond momentarily considered revoking his decree at that last look on her face; but Ginny's eyes hardened in challenge and his pride prevented him from doing anything but crossing his arms and standing resolutely in front of her.

Ginny swept any strands of hair out of her face that obstructed the sidelong glance she cast at Professor Martin, daring the woman to feel pity for her. What did pity do but take up the space of real emotions anyway? And she was the one who had prompted the whole discussion in the first place.

"I made the acquaintance of Tom Marvolo Riddle in my first year. I was curious about Hogwarts and all the secrets it held, especially after hearing about my brother's first year with a clever Muggleborn witch and the famous Harry Potter. But I had yet to make any real friends of my own, and had too much Weasley pride to ask any of my brothers to help me learn my way around.

"Then I discovered Tom amongst my frail, bedraggled books and thought, 'Who'd be better for the job than an older boy – a _prefect_, and a handsome boy who seemed to know a lot about Hogwarts' older secrets, but not its current inhabitants? We could trade information.

"So he showed me around. I didn't remember a lot of the nights we went exploring, and was only left with my rumpled school robes from the day before as evidence that I had done anything at all. Tom made sure to tell me that we'd always had fun – so much so that I was too tired to change into proper pajamas that my mother made for me. All I had strength for was falling dead asleep on top of the covers. And even that was okay until the chicken feathers and blood…"

"Ginny, please –"

"I'm telling the story of my darkest days, Professor. Don't worry; it's good to bleed this out, isn't it?" she asked in such a cold voice, staring straight at Draco, that Martin fell silent. "Anyway, I almost killed one of my best friends, one of my brother's, another brother's girlfriend, Harry Potter…"

"And a ghastly cat," Draco added quietly, making it clear who he valued more. Ginny watched him, not amused, eyes like coffee colored marbles.

"Exactly," said Ginny.

He met her gaze unaffected. "And…it wasn't your fault."

"You don't need to explain that to me. It was your father's."

Draco skin flushed embarrassingly with shame: he was shameful that he cared enough to feel sick about what she had experienced, and somewhat apologetic that he had just made her relive it in such a raw fashion. But she didn't understand _his_ side.

"I thank you for the input, though," she finished.

Draco searched for the right words to say and was dismayed at the fact that there didn't seem to be any. With a rush of anger and frustration he suddenly thought Ginny very stupid for not understanding why Martin had wanted to do the exercise. It wasn't to humiliate her.

"I'm only trying to show you that you're no better than I am," he said.

Ginny smiled scornfully. The image of a beautiful woman, Draco discovered, was found in fury. "I'm better than any disgusting, shit-faced, cold-blooded, _Slytherin_ who worships the ground that Tom slides along."

Draco felt the familiar pulse of the vein in his neck working steadily. Cold-blooded was the perfect description. Draco felt as if someone had put a Freezing Charm on him.

"I'm not Tom Riddle."

"No you're not," Ginny said, nodding. "He was a better friend than you could ever be."

"Well, you know how pureblood competition is. If I were to lose to anyone, why not to the most supreme of them all?" he said quietly, wanting to negate Ginny's bitter statement, but only making the situation worse.

Ginny's blinked a few times. "I'm sorry you think so." She pushed past Draco who was slow to stop her, but tried to call her back all the same.

"You always leave it like this."

She shook her head and he watched her hair sway to each side. "I never do. I always come back every time, and that's why I always get punished."

She let the door shut behind her.

* * *

Draco wondered, as he left Martin sitting mutely at the table ten minutes later and saw Ginny's beautiful scarf hanging on the knob outside the door, if they'd ever stop arguing.

Of course he tried to make those thoughts as detached from any genuine emotion or care, which made it easier for him see the answer: if they did, it wouldn't be because Ginny fucked it up.

* * *

The end of another one, sorry again it took so long. This is probably a common thought you've all been having, and rutupatel, I hope this answers your review. I'd love to be able to make the chapters shorter and have faster updates, but the chapters sort of decide themselves on length. I know that sounds like I'm trying to dodge the fact that I update like a dying turtle, but I find that I like where the chapters end better when they're longer. I'll really try and be faster though.****

I'd like to write individual replies back to every review, but I want to get this chapter out right now. Next chapter there will be, for now, thanks very, very, very much to:

**seekerpeeker, dweeb, shelly2, toastsnatcher, Dweeb, rutupatel**, **Isadora, FickleFickleMuse, knight-whosays-ni, xxbabysparklesxx, pamie884, coldflamez, seventy-two, Moonlight Princess, montequilladecacahuate, tomatohole, Holly Mariano, LovingFanfics, Lirie Halliwell**. A humongous thank you to you all.

-Femme


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Author's Notes:

- First and foremost, a huge thanks to every single one of you out there who has given a review and helpful comment. 'Tis muchly appreciated. Thanks not only for this story, but also for all of my other one-shots and things; the reviews on those have been wonderful. I love you all.

- Next, Quidditch starts up again in this chapter. I've thrown in a bunch of names for Keepers and Chasers and people like that on the teams; if you know any better that someone who is a Chaser shouldn't be, or someone who isn't who _should_, just humor me. I had the names listed before OotP and am too lazy to change it right now.

- Lastly!!! Very important!!! Story sort of earns its rating in this (EXTREMELY LONG chapter. This means there may be a few weird grammatical/textual mistakes. Feel free to point it out if you should come across one) chapter. That means snogging…

Disclaimer: Oh, if Harry Potter (and co.) were mine, life would be a dream, sweetheart…

_Analyze This_

* * *

Perfecting the art of storming off after an angry tirade, or fuming in solitude, was something Ginny practiced at often.

It was useful for when Bill, the usually "cool" brother, stole her ponytail holders; for when Charlie petted her on the head and told her that she shouldn't even think about dragons for years yet; for when Percy…well, when _not_ for Percy these days? When Fred and George teased her; and for when Ron treated her like a shoebox or an empty Chocolate Frog Wrapper.

The point was that people who knew her best knew not to interfere with the process. There was no reasoning with Ginny in less than forty-five minutes when she was in that state; so unless it was an argument that needed to be had out, she was avoided. Who'd want to spend the better part of an hour having a row?

"I thought I'd find you here," Draco spoke up. His curt footsteps halted succinctly on the stone floor, leaving a short echo.

Ginny continued to sit unmoving in her alcove, the very image of Patience on a monument…or from the harsh frown on her mouth Murder on a monument.

Draco tried to keep his breathing steady. His statement was not _completely_ true…He'd thought that he'd find her in many places: The Quidditch pitch, the Great Hall with her friends in the Infirmary…

He'd even thought of chancing a look in the Lake. She _had_ seemed rather shaken up, and logic would follow that if he'd driven her over the edge, she might tip herself over and in. Obviously his morbid narcissism was wrong, because while returning from the entrance doors (annoyed and out of breath) he had spotted an ill-shaped shadow twisting into the main hall from a side passage. It led to a small antechamber with a half closed door. It looked like a medium-sized linen cupboard that hadn't been used in a while. Now it was used for housing angry Gryffindor, he speculated.

The air around her was stagnant and angry, and even her hair seemed to be mussed fussily atop her head. Her arms were crossed tightly and defiantly against his intrusion, and her lips were pressed in a thin line until they were white around the edges.

A few more minutes of awkward silence passed.

"Plan on inviting me in?" Draco asked.

She said nothing. "Fine." He crossed the short distance between himself and the antechamber door, opened it wide, and stepped in. Once inside he was forced to hover over her, as there was less room than he'd anticipated. Draco pushed Ginny's legs over so that he could sit somewhat comfortably, and waited to see if she had a reaction other than huffing.

"Aren't you going to rage at me or do something exciting? Don't just sit there like a lump."

Her lips un-pursed. "My purpose in life is not to _amuse_ you. I'm sitting in a dusty corner for a reason, you dolt, and that reason is to be alone."

"I think we need to straighten some things out. To start off, Martin didn't ask us to do the exercise so that we'd embarrass ourselves; she did it so that we'd relate to each other. You're missing the point entirely –"

"It's so fortunate that one of us understood Martin's grand vision," said Ginny sarcastically. "Or else someone might've gotten upset."

"You're acting like I killed someone…like _you_ killed someone."

"I very nearly did," Ginny informed him shortly.

"_Nearly_ is the key word," came her reply.

Ginny laughed humorlessly. "I see my life in stages. The first was before The Chamber; the second _was_ The Chamber; the third was after. The third stage is still happening. That means there's still plenty of time for me to turn everything I've worked so hard for into nothing but dust. You don't think that's reason enough to worry?"

Draco took in a calming breath and held up a pale hand. He put up one finger.

"I suppose my life comes in three stages as well. There's before I was born; there's after – which is now; and then there's later on when I'm sleeping eternally at the family cemetery. But seeing as the first and last phases go far beyond my spectrum of knowledge I often allow myself the luxury of ignoring them."

Ginny's eyes darkened. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No," he said, "I'm trying to be profound but evidently failing spectacularly. I'm rubbish at making people feel better as its more fun to do the opposite, so you'll actually have to listen to me."

The redhead glared but he continued on.

"I don't think of my life in three phases at all – I see no reason to. I rather fancy rolling it all into a straight line: my present all the way to my future. Usually that's my father's doing as well…" Ginny appeared interested at that so he went on. "I've found, though, that overanalyzing every bit of tripe that pops up makes things worse for me."

"For others…" Ginny murmured letting her arms fall to her sides.

"Oh right," he said. "All of those people as well."

She shook her head. "But if I don't give second thought to what I did w-with the Chamber, then it's possible it could happen again. It's possible that I could get involved with something, _anything_ I wasn't meant to, and…and – _what is so funny_?!"

Draco sobered immediately. He hadn't meant to smile at all – the topic wasn't terribly amusing.

"It's just that you keep saying, 'Oh dear me, I could kill someone!' or 'Merlin forgive me for the evil things I haven't done but could very well do at some indiscernible point in time.' Frankly, it's ridiculous."

"You'd say that, wouldn't you?" she said frostily. "You who spent years at Hogwarts pointing and laughing at everyone when you were the real joke. _You_ who instigated fights with people and threatened them with your toughest weapons: Daddy and the Barbarians. It follows, then, that you'd spare no consideration to your effect on others."

"Someone's getting defensive," he said tightly, struggling not to lash out at the girl in front of him. Ginny opened her mouth to let loose a torrent of expletives on him, but he cut her off at the quick. "I made Potter's life hell because I hated him; I still do. I've yet to come across a moodier, more self-absorbed, _freakish_ bastard –"

"Other than you!" Ginny indicted. "Harry has a lot to be upset about!"

"Who doesn't?!" Draco shouted back. "But he's got the backing of your ragtag family, the Mud – the _Muggle_born, the foggy Headmaster. And oh, right, the _entire_ wizarding world because no one wants to become a lousy Death Eater or be killed! Yet Specks still finds the time to complain about his sheets not being folded over correctly or the room temperature being too low."

The redhead flushed in Harry's defense. "You know that Harry's never said anything like that! He saved my life!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "And that makes how many times you've mentioned it?" he asked nastily.

"Not nearly enough if you can sit there and dare ask me why on earth it still matters! In case you bloody well forgot, he rescued me from Tom Riddle while you sulked about not being the Heir of Slytherin! And fine, at times he's surly and mean and a prat, even when we try to help him; but it's because he doesn't understand that we won't just up and leave him when things get even worse."

"That's understandable to some extent. What I don't care for is his astonishing fakeness and how the rest of you fall for it. Sure he seems all smiles and Quidditch, but it's just a front. He doesn't have the nerve to be outwardly miserable when he's feeling that way, but he could at least do better to hide the fact that he feels like shit."

"Harry knows that if any of us got an inkling he was in low spirits we'd jump at the chance to make him feel better. He doesn't want that; it makes him feel worse."

Draco looked steadily at Ginny. "Then it's your fault – you and your motley bunch – for imposing that prison of mock cheer on him. I actually feel a bit sorry for the wanker now."

Ginny looked stricken. "We care about him; we can't help but want him to be happy."

Leaning so that his back rested on the cold wall, Draco rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Happy isn't everything; and you shouldn't force him to feel something he doesn't. All of you are striving for some degree of perfection in him he doesn't have. Then later you wonder why you're all so miserable when you do the same to yourselves. The Chamber of Secrets tainted you? So what? Had it not been that it would have been something else. Do yourself a favor and stop wallowing in that muck of self-pity you Gryffindor love. I'm sure all of you believe it's noble to suffer, but come on; it's nauseating and superfluous, and you end up taking the piss out of Slytherins because we have money to find solace in. You're jealous that we can cheat past our shortcomings and not dwell on them."

Ginny's knuckles turned white as she clenched them. "Not everyone has that luxury, Draco."

"Then there's the next obvious solution Miss Pity Party: forgive yourself for it."

She laughed darkly. "That kind of thing takes time."

"Don't be lazy," he said. "It's not as if you haven't wasted years trying to do that already. By the way, pass that bit of information to Potter so he can grit his teeth at me, call me a 'poncy, smart-arsed, upstart' and be ready for our rematch."

Ginny stared.

Her guilt was not completely alleviated, but it was better for the moment. Shockingly she had Draco to thank for it – Colin wasn't half as good at pretending to be the seventh-year as she had thought. Ginny understood that her friend's advice ran along the same vein as the advice she had just gotten, but it was different coming from someone who had no obligation to her. He wasn't her best friend, but if she was not sure of his sincerity, she could be of his scathing honesty.

"You should watch out; with a speech like that someone might doubt your disdain for me."

The blond peeled his closed lids open, scoffed, and half turned away from her (which he could barely do in the small space); Ginny launched forward and put her hand over his. Its casual lightness told him that she didn't think anything of it, but the warming of his own skin made him nervous.

"I'm serious! Your sarcasm and deliberate lack of tact are quite the remedies…sort of, at least."

He knew that that was as much as he'd get in the way of thanks, although the soft pressure of her palm on his knuckles distantly made him want more than her teasing.

"Gee," said Draco sardonically, "You're making me blush."

He ducked his head in mock bashfulness so she couldn't see it was true. When Ginny removed her hand from his, he sat in uncomfortable silence watching her absorb their conversation. Then she spoke again, sounding more nervous than before.

"In The Room I said some things to you…"

"Tom Riddle was a better friend…I worship the ground he slides along…I'm evil and should be smote…"

Ginny winced a bit and nodded. "Well you have to understand that I was upset. You saw that I didn't want to talk, but you ganged up against me with Professor Martin!" Realizing that anger was not her intention she got back on track. "But…but I am sorry, you know."

Draco nodded thoughtfully and said, "As you should be."

Ginny looked at him in disbelief.

"What? You expected me to accept your tawdry little apology? With something like the Chamber of Secrets over your head, I don't see how you find the time to be affronted by my past treatment of house elves."

"I don't find it very difficult to relate to them, is how." Draco opened his mouth to comment but Ginny cut him off. "You can say something derisive about me, but it's only because you don't understand." She shifted a little and looked at him thoughtfully. "I tried to get rid of the diary, you know – I wasn't completely spineless. I tried to flush it down the toilet."

Ginny looked uncomfortable momentarily, as she realized that her confession didn't sound as awe-inspiring as it had when she was a first year. Draco noticed and tried somewhat to ease her anxiety.

"That's what we do with Dark artifacts at my house, too," he said.

A smile flashed across Ginny's face.

"I'm so sure… Anyway, all things considered, I felt rather victorious after my pitiful show of bravado. I'm sure that the house elf you tortured felt the same when drawing the bath water. But instead of just letting it be or giving him a tedious punishment you turned his self-respect against him; I remember how that felt. Add that to your incapability to take anyone's problems but your own seriously and you've got an angry Weasley hot on your tail."

"Well if I'd known that was all it took…" He received an artic glare. "Merlin above, sorry. These things just come out, you see."

"Isn't that the problem?" she pondered. "We're fair-weather friends: when things are good and fun we're perfectly fine – in our own bizarre way of course. But when things are horrible and messed up like they usually are, it's almost always the end of everything."

He pulled her scarf out of his pocket and turned it over and over in his hands. "I didn't know you couldn't handle a bit of excitement, Weasley. You think too much; look at us. Scarily enough we're just sitting here; your wand's not trained on my face and vice versa; people might even call it being chummy. I have the dubious feeling that it'll be this way for awhile."

Ginny half smiled at him and then looked at the cloth in his hands.

"I didn't mean to leave that behind," she said.

One of his eyebrows arched skeptically. "Really? So you accidentally hooked it on the doorknob when you just happened to be furious with me?"

Her smile got wider. "Actually, _that_ part was on purpose – just to make you feel bad, you know."

"Oh, yes, of course," he said.

"But I was going to go back and get it when you and Martin left."

His eyes widened. "You scheming –"

"Scheming _what_?" Ginny challenged, snatching the scarf from his hands. "You wouldn't care half as much if you were really as cold as you'd like me to think."

"I'm not _cold_," he replied. "I'm aloof."

The Gryffindor shook her head. "Thanks for the clarification."

* * *

"Are you all right, Ginny? You're pale," Hermione asked, her quill pausing in midair.

The recipient of the query looked up from her text. "I'm fine," she answered. "Why? Do I look unwell?"

"Not on your death bed, no. Mostly tired, like you have a lot on your mind."

Ginny fingered the spine of her secondhand book leisurely. "As a matter-of-fact, I do. Nothing all that important though; certainly nothing like _you_ must have."

A soft blush tinted the older girl's cheeks. "I don't know what you mean," she said airily, resuming her work.

"Su-ure, you don't," sang Ginny in the same tone she used when baiting Ron. Leaning forward she took Hermione's quill from between her fingers and twirled it around playfully. "Did you have fun at the Burrow this Christmas, sister of mine?"

Hermione's trademark bushy hair nodded an energetic affirmative along with the rest of her head. "I always do, and this one was actually one of the – Ginny, what did you call me?"

"Oh, I didn't mean to offend."

Hermione's eyes narrowed sternly, although the effect was somewhat undermined by the raging color on her face. "Honestly, Ginny! Ron and I aren't that serious yet!"

"Yet? So you've been thinking about it?"

"_Really_, Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ginny chuckled and returned the quill back to the Head Girl, who returned to her work without complaint. Ginny wordlessly rejoiced over the small victory that changes of subject wrought.

Two hours after her talk with Draco, saw the redhead in the common room. She was alone aside from Hermione, as Colin was still in the Infirmary with Lark – whom he'd implored to take pictures of his unusual features. There was nothing else to do, other than read ahead in her textbooks; the drama of the early afternoon was over and she'd had enough of the snow to last a long while.

In between reading, Ginny's thoughts centered on her treatment of Professor Martin and the hostile stance she'd taken against the woman. After leaving the old cupboard with Draco, Ginny had traversed the halls looking for the professor, but she was nowhere to be found. It was curious, Ginny thought. She never really knew where Martin went when meetings were not in session. The odd image of Professor Martin roosting in the Owlery in her Animagus form, with the rest of the messenger birds, materialized in her mind and she grinned.

Just then Ron and Harry entered; the former peering at crumpled sheets of parchment, the latter absently tousling up his messy hair even further.

"Have the two of you finally decided to get back to work?" Ginny asked. "You told Hermione you'd be back a half hour ago." She slid over to the opposite end of the sofa so that Ron could sit at the end closest to Hermione, and Harry next to Ron.

"Our meeting with McGonagall and Snape was a conspiracy," Ron grumbled. "I swear that git gets fouler during the holidays just so he can say that Christmas isn't fun. I hope he didn't get any presents."

"I can't see who'd waste money on him," said Harry, looking pinched around the mouth. "Maybe Father Christmas gave him a lump of coal just like you wanted."

"Must have been mighty a small one if he's still smarting over it. Can you believe that he got McGonagall to agree to rearrange our practice slots so that Malfoy's team could have the pitch? I booked those days! " he told his sister, seeing that Hermione was not paying much attention to him.

"You did," she agreed. "We haven't lost those two practices though, have we? Are they just at different times?"

"Well, yeah. Sure," said Ron. "But it's only because those bogey-faced Slytherins tried to pull a guilt trip on McGonagall. They said that since they've got an upcoming match to practice for along with the Gryffindor/Slytherin rematch, we _owed_ it to them to swap. '_Especially because of that Gryffindor Chaser's folly'_," he finished nasally.

Ginny was wary. "Malfoy said that?"

"Snape," Ron admitted. "But Malfoy just stood there and looked smug. Their match is on Saturday, so this week our practices have been booted to Friday night and Sunday morning."

"Sunday morning!" she exclaimed. "No one practices on Sunday mornings!"

"The Hufflepuffs do, sometimes," said Harry. "I've seen them at it."

"Will the schedule go back to normal after the Slytherin match?" asked Ginny.

Harry nodded.

"Who're they playing?"

"Ravenclaw."

"We should go watch," said Ron thoughtfully. "You know, size up the competition."

"You can't," Hermione interjected without looking away from her work, "You're revising Saturday. You _are_ following the timetable, right, Ron?" Her eyes flickered upward.

"Sure," he mumbled.

"And you, Harry?"

"Obsessively," he muttered. Ginny eyed him shrewdly and saw Hermione do the same. He was in a mood and she wondered what had spurred it on. On second thought, she reckoned that he didn't really need a reason to not be in good and great spirits. Draco's message to Harry flitted through her mind.

"Malfoy told me to tell you to stop moping around the castle and get ready for the rematch," she spouted suddenly.

All three heads turned to her.

"Malfoy said _what_?" Ron asked.

A darker tone came to the raven-haired boy's eyes.

"I…he just told me to pass that message on to Harry."

"It's a pity that Malfoy's not a Legilimens like Voldemort," said Harry getting up. "Or else he might've told me himself." He walked up the common room stairs to the boy's dormitories and all was silent downstairs for a few moments.

"Why'd you say a thing like that for?" Ron asked his sister angrily.

Ginny's hackles rose. "Well it's not like I made it up," she snapped.

"What do you think Harry meant by that?" Hermione asked, ignoring the imminent row between the siblings. "Is it possible that V-Voldemort is still bothering him through their connection? He certainly hasn't said anything."

"We don't care to hear what Malfoy's got to say against Harry," Ron continued. "I told you to report back to us if he was bothering you, not if he popped out with some more slanderous crap."

"Why? Because it would ruin Harry's mood to hear about something other than Quidditch? I'm sure he's hearing worse in his own mind," Ginny shot back.

Hermione blinked very quickly. "Has Malfoy ever hinted about any goings-on with the…well, you know, the Death Eaters?" The redhead sat back very quickly. "It's just that _we_ haven't heard much, and being that you're around him so much and all…" she rushed on. "When _did_ you hear from Malfoy today, Ginny?"

Ginny got to her feet. "I haven't heard one single thing indicating any Death Eater activity, Hermione. _I_ don't exactly go on about the Order."

"Why are you defending him?" asked Ron.

"I'm not!" Ginny exclaimed. "I don't know why we're even talking about Draco Malfoy. This is about Harry and about how we've been treating him."

"How does Malfoy say we've been treating him?" Ron returned.

"I…I don't know…" she stuttered. "Just, in a way that might not be exactly beneficial to someone we call our friend. Have you realized that he barely talks about anything personal with us?"

Ron went silent.

"I didn't see it either," she said. "But, well, Malfoy notices…things that we're not inclined to speak of for fear of upsetting Harry. Maybe it's good that I passed that message on to him. At least he'll see we're not treating him with kid gloves."

The two seventh-years just stared at her, and so Ginny sighed and went up the stairs to her own room, feeling their eyes on her back.

* * *

Colin watched as the girl in front of him looked him over appraisingly.

"There's no need to stare," he informed her. "I promise you that Pomfrey worked out all the kinks. It's one-hundred percent Colin Creevey sitting before you."

"I just wanted to make sure," said Ginny. "After all, you seemed hell bent on emulating Draco Malfoy just yesterday."

"Do you plan on holding that against me?"

"No, I plan on forgetting the experience as quickly as humanly possible." Ginny sidestepped a stumbling fourth or fifth year and continued talking. "But should I give you an O for effort?"

Colin grinned down at her. "Just tell me how the real Malfoy handled you."

She leaned her forearms down on a dry, cold section of stone. There weren't very many people out in the courtyard as it felt like the Arctic outside. However Colin had never let Mother Nature get to him and he fancied Ginny's company for the moment, so she obliged him. Lark had turned down their invitation to go outside for break, and was instead traipsing around with either Seamus or Dean. She'd bid Lark a goodbye and told her that if she preferred to be inside the castle and warm then it was her loss, not Ginny's.

"You probably won't believe me, but he was surprisingly civil about the whole thing – well after the initial blowout at least."

"Blowout?" asked Colin. "Sounds exciting. Did you decorate the floor with his face, then?"

"No," said Ginny. "I did one better. I hid in a dust ridden cupboard on the verge of bawling my eyes out."

"Ah, good times," said Colin dryly, looking at Ginny sideways. He didn't push that part of the conversation, as he knew that if Ginny chose to elaborate, she would.

"I know; one near breakdown and it's only Monday."

"So are you still seeing Malfoy anyway?"

Ginny took pause. "Seeing him?"

He nodded. "Yeah. You just had a session with him yesterday, are you going to be seeing him for another this afternoon?"

The redhead's shoulders sagged slowly with relief from what she'd thought Colin was insinuating. "Martin sent me an owl early this morning – you were in your photo lab when it came. My next meeting with Malfoy isn't until next week. I get the feeling Martin's nervous about seeing me again after the way I acted toward her. Her style is usually very personal and I would have expected her to cancel today's session in the same fashion."

Colin was thoughtful. "I haven't been to one of those hellish meetings, but I've seen Martin around and she doesn't strike me as prime evil, you know. Don't you think you should lay off on her now? You've treated her like Public Enemy Number Two – second only to Malfoy."

"I really think that your purpose in life is to make me remember everything that I've ever regretted doing."

"Well, they do say that there are four people in your life who'll do that to you: yourself, your best friend, your romantic interest," he waggled his eyebrows "and your mother, of course."

"Mother of course, nothing!" Ginny cried, laughing. "That sounds familiar…who told you that?"

"Your brother," Colin admitted with a sheepish smile, brushing a cowlick out of his eye.

Ginny jumped straight up. "It _was_ Ron, wasn't it?!" She waved her hand passively. "Keep in mind that he only said that after Mum started gushing about his newfound relationship with Hermione at dinner."

Colin laughed. "And Hermione didn't rip him a new one after he told her his little proverb?"

"I'll just say that when Ron saw her enter the conversation with renewed vigor, all bright-eyed and overly enthusiastic, Harry and I thought he might explode all over the table."

"Erg. That would have been unfortunate."

"You're telling me? We've had that tablecloth in the family for _ages_."

----------------------------

Later that afternoon Ginny found herself eyeballing the Slytherin table for a chin.

A pale, pointy chin to be exact. However the only ones she could spy were too stubbly, too round, too cleft-ed and a whole other multitude of too's that clearly indicated Draco Malfoy was not in the room.

"How was break?" Lark asked from beside Ginny, searching for a sandwich she liked on the large platter. "Freezing?"

Ginny's eyes spun over to her friend's. "_No_. It was refreshing; I feel really alive."

"I've heard that that's one of the initial symptoms of hypothermia," Lark said informatively.

Ginny sniffed and tilted her chin. "I've heard no such thing." She crossed her arms.

Suspiciously, the dark-haired girl peered at the tips of her friend's fingers. "Ginny, they're blue!"

"Oh really, Lark, don't exaggerate! I rather think they're a soft periwinkle."

Unsurprisingly, that didn't alleviate the girl's concern. She forcibly took her friend's hands in her own and attempted to rub warmth into them. Ginny yelped and snatched them back.

"For fingers that don't have much feeling in them, you'd be surprised how much they sting when someone touches them."

"Don't be dim, Ginny!" Lark cried. Ginny tried to look affronted. "What happened to your gloves?"

"I left them in my other robes," she said defensively.

"Why haven't you gone to see Pomfrey?"

"You wouldn't believe how sick I am of that place, Lark! And if I go there she'll want to give me a full looking-over."

Lark tried another angle; she turned on Colin. "I thought you were supposed to be keeping her company, not seeing how much she could get her fingers to look like Belching Blueberry Sticks!"

"I resent that!" protested Ginny. "My fingers are not sticks. I think they're rather shapely, in fact. Just look at these nails."

"Don't look at me," Colin said. "I tried to make her go to the Infirmary but she wouldn't have any of it. Did you know, Lark that in times of opposition Ginny resembles a wild jungle cat on safari?"

"Oh, that's really quite interesting. Did you know, Colin, that right now she looks like a girl whose fingers are about to snap off?"

"Are girls like that found on safari as well?" asked Ginny.

It was Lark's turn to be stubborn. "I'll…I'll drag you there – to the Infirmary I mean, not the grasslands of Africa – if I have to."

"I'd much rather hear about your afternoon."

"I stayed in the castle," said Lark. "I spoke to a few people. We sat in the Great Hall. It was _warm_."

"There's no reason to be sarcastic," said Ginny. "It won't influence me whatsoever."

"I'll tell your brother that you won't be able to hold a quaffle, much less the feather of a quill without any fingers."

* * *

Five minutes later, the Great Hall doors closed behind Ginny who was grumbling about animals that got on perfectly fine without opposable thumbs.

When she reached the Infirmary, Madam Pomfrey was doling out some Pepper-Up to a troupe of younger girls whom Ginny did not know. Self-conscious due to the fact that their hair was sadly troll-like and frazzled, and that their ears were more like the steam whistle on the Hogwarts Express, the girls shuffled out plaintively.

"What may I do for you, Miss Weasley?" Pomfrey asked in a business-like manner. "Girls from all houses have been coming in here for ridiculous amounts of Pepper-Up Potion all because they choose to dress inappropriately for the weather. Witches!" she declared. "More like _back-alley_ witches if you discern my meaning, dear."

The Mediwitch said it in such a tone that Ginny found herself nodding very rapidly, lest the woman further assume that Ginny was in need of the horrid potion as well.

"Oh, completely, Madam Pomfrey. I assure you that I wear at least five layers everyday starting in late September."

"I wasn't being funny," the older woman said doggedly. "The poor girls all want to impress the wizards, and so they strip like pixies on parade. It's really quite unheard of! And it's all that Professor Snape can do to keep up with the never ending request for Pepper-Up Potion."

Ginny was unsympathetic. "Well it _is_ his job to make it, isn't it?" she asked tentatively.

"Of course! But I mix a fair share of it also, and you know how unpleasant Severus – well Professor Snape to you – may be. I don't suppose though, that I should speak ill of my fellow faculty member in front of a student; the Headmaster would be abhorred. State your ailment and I'll do my best to fix it up."

Ginny revealed her hands.

She felt compelled to defend herself when Pomfrey gave her a sharp look. "I promise I'm not a pixie in a back-alley…or whatever…I just forgot to get my gloves before going out this morning. I didn't even realize that they were so bad until I came back inside and the heat irritated them. I sort of hoped they'd thaw naturally…"

The matron sighed heavily and began picking up the bottle that was in her hands when Ginny had entered.

"Don't you have anything else?" the redhead asked quickly.

"Why?" asked Madam Pomfrey. "Don't think I've forgotten that you've only just finished taking your other potions from that horrid quidditch fiasco. If I mix too many substances the residual ingredients in your system might –"

"I really don't need anything fancy." _I just don't need to look like an item from Filibuster's either._

"Well there is one other I could give you," Pomfrey said with great self-sacrifice.

After five minutes of tinkering in the medicine cupboard she pulled out a long tube with a very thick stopper. It held a thick, goopy, oatmeal-colored substance. Ginny fought against making a face. Madam Pomfrey took out a teaspoon and poured a bit onto it – more like a chunk of it surrounded in viscous fluid – and held it to Ginny's mouth.

"Swallow."

After a moment's hesitation, Ginny shut her eyes tight and closed her mouth over the spoon. To her surprise it sort of melted until it was as smooth milk and ran down her throat with the vague taste of broccoli; it wasn't unpleasant, just odd.

"There's a bit of aloe extract which gives it the flora-like flavor," Pomfrey explained. Ginny nodded and thanked her virtuously, heading out before she could be summoned back for a more thorough looking over.

Closing the door behind her back, Ginny looked up the corridor back to where the Great Hall was. Then she looked the other way, wondering if she should just take the shortcut back to Gryffindor Tower; there was no point in going back to eat lunch. The potion, though not vile, had ruined her chances of finishing her soup without it tasting like something akin to raw broccoli. Remembering the savory taste of the onion soup despite the sharp pains she'd gotten from clutching a spoon Ginny tried to console herself by remembering that lunch was almost over anyway.

She decided to go the way of the shortcut, and walked down the hall at a bit of a slow pace when she saw a distant figure approaching. Normally she would have ignored the person – after all, Hogwarts was a school; of course she was going to see people coming down the hall – however she recognized the physique even from a distance, and slowed to a stop. _He_ didn't notice that she lay ahead of him until he was only a few steps away, and with a small amount of amusement Ginny noted that he hesitated to come her way before going on.

She decided to meet him halfway.

"Were you needing something?" he asked when she was in earshot.

"No, I'm just being nosy. Why did you miss lunch?"

"Reasons," he said.

"Such as…"

Draco hesitated for a minute before speaking and Ginny knew that he was only telling her a half-truth when he did.

"Someone wanted to see me. I went to see them. I missed lunch. I then came upon you, who continued to hold me up while I starved. When I fall into unconsciousness here at your feet, please tell someone to wave a pie under my nose. I'd like to smell food before I die."

"Don't get shirty with me just because you chose to have a clandestine affair with some witch instead of eating," Ginny advised him, affronted. "I swear, everyone's got a wand stuck up their bum today, you included."

"Thank you, Weasley. I was under the impression that you thought I had a wand shoved up my arse everyday. It's nice to know that there are some days on which I might sit on a chair, undisturbed by the nuisance of hard wood up one's rectum. Getting back on topic, though, have you ever considered that it might be your wonderful effect on people that sets them off?"

Ginny glared. "You're obviously in a hurry, Malfoy. Do run along before you faint from hunger. After all, if your head hits the floor it might knock manners into you."

She walked past him, knocking him aside roughly.

Draco looked in the direction she went off in for a long moment before continuing down the hall. Why was it that whenever Ginny Weasley was concerned, he amassed a headache the size of Madam Maxime?

He had sort of been enjoying the day, too. The weekend had gone by slowly but relaxingly, and Draco had hoped that his Monday session with Ginny would go off in the same manner.

He'd arrived at The Room on time to see not Ginny, but Professor Martin waiting for him. The woman spared no time in telling him that the sessions would be cancelled for the rest of the week in order to perform some more tests (obviously she hadn't caught the hint from her first little 'test). Ginny already knew about the cancellations, though not the reasons behind them, as Draco had been told. _His_ test would be first; and it would be one of initiative.

He was told to invite Ginny to the Slytherin quidditch match on Saturday. Those were his only instructions, other than that he had the whole week to comply.

"And what is my punishment if I don't?" he'd asked the counselor with thinly veiled fury.

She'd only shrugged. "I'm sure you'll torture yourself enough for your, well, cowardice, without me coming up with one for you," she had said bluntly. "Well, go on, Mr. Malfoy; I'm sure you have classes to attend."

Draco had left The Room trying not to appear huffy and annoyed by the woman – it would only encourage her.

He had less than seven days to ask Ginny Weasley to support the quidditch team her House was bitterly against…and even worse; he sort of wanted her to come…

* * *

On Wednesday, Draco told himself that he wanted Ginny to be there so that he could shove his team's victory in her face when they won.

By Thursday, he'd actually wanted to know if she'd accept, and that was indeed frightening.

So on Friday, Draco had gone back to The Room looking for Martin. He was planning on telling the professor that there was no way he was inviting Ginny to a Slytherin game; she had no place there and more than that, she'd never say yes.

Twenty minutes later, he walked briskly down the corridor away from The Room, as Martin was nowhere to be found. Draco turned onto a side hall he knew led to Gryffindor Tower, and with shock, spotted Ginny further down. He'd avoided her all week just to find her at the moment he least wanted to. Life was some kind of crazy.

His heart began hammering loudly in his chest and he forced it to remain normal.

He was going to do it. He was no coward. What he was going to do was perfectly normal – although criminal by his father's standards – and there was no reason to think otherwise.

Draco watched as Ginny's step hitched mid-stride, as if she'd heard him behind her. Then she resumed, slower this time, although that was not saying much; she walked like she was in a bloody marathon.

He continued to advance leisurely behind her, pointedly admiring her swaying if not quick gait. But in the next moment she swung around, eyes peering at him blankly, then with recognition; her palm was firmly on the waistband of her skirt, he wondered if she kept her wand there. It was so close to her skin…

Draco crossed the distance between them and stood with what he hoped looked like ease, his hands in his trouser pockets.

"I need to ask you something," he said, skipping niceties. "Well, two somethings. Are you aware that you walk abnormally fast?"

The tension in Ginny's stance melted away though she was still disquieted.

"I've been told that a thousand times. Are _you_ aware that if you needed to ask me something urgent, you should have walked faster to catch up, instead of pacing behind like a leering stalker?"

"I should have run up behind you?" he asked.

"Yes, that or called my name," she insisted. "Do you know how eerie it is to hear someone following you?"

Draco smirked. "So I take it that if I ever need you in the future, I should chase you down in the hall screaming your name?"

Ginny 'humphed' but her eyes fastened on to his. "How may I be of service, Master Malfoy?"

He waited a moment to get his bearings and decide how he would phrase the question.

"Are you aware that there's a quidditch match tomorrow?"

Ginny eyes him suspiciously. "Slytherin versus Ravenclaw? The one that led to Gryffindor practice being rescheduled? I might've heard a thing or two about it, yeah."

He licked his lips uneasily as the redhead obviously wondered where the whole 'chat' was going. "Martin's heard about it as well. I don't know how, as I've never even seen her speak to anyone other than ourselves…but that's not the point."

"And what is?" asked Ginny.

"I'm getting to that," he said shortly. "The match is tomorrow afternoon and she thought it would be nice…if you went."

Ginny blinked. "What do you mean 'went'? Like sat in the stands and supported Slytherin?"

"Yes."

She was silent for a full minute, though she maintained eye contact. "I mean, well, I dunno…do _you_ think it would be…nice? I mean would it be all right with your House?"

"I don't really care what my House thinks," he said plainly.

Ginny looked away from him. "We both know that's not entirely true."

"How isn't it?" he asked.

"It just isn't," she insisted.

He found himself offended by her firm assurance that he fretted over what Slytherin thought of his every move. "Do you honestly think that I let my actions be dictated by House desires?"

"They're not just desires," Ginny said explained. "They're unspoken rules – and you believed in them once-upon-a-time, say, five minutes ago, so don't make me the goody-Gryffindor. I admit that I take those desires into consideration, myself."

Draco struggled against a growing anger with the Gryffindor. "If you thought that Martin's idea was rubbish you should have just said so."

Ginny dragged her eyes upward. "I never said the idea was rubbish!" It wasn't lost on her that he made sure to mention that the whole idea was Professor Martin's. She bit her lip as his features became guarded. "Draco…if you say there's no issue –"

"I thought I made it clear there wasn't."

"Fine. Then do you want me to go?" she burst out.

"Martin –"

"No. You. Do you want me to go to your match? I've never really supported any other team except Ravenclaw, and that was when I went out with Michael Corner…" Draco went a bit stiff. "But if you say that you want me to go I think…I suppose it'd be fine."

The blond took in a steadying breath. "It doesn't matter what I want. I didn't even _think_ about what _I_ want – this is about Professor Martin and these sessions. I'm just a messenger."

But before Ginny could come up with a suitable reply he had walked off in front of her, not even bothering to hear if she had accepted.

* * *

Draco swooped listlessly through the air, searching lazily for the snitch.

The game had only started ten minutes earlier and Slytherin needed to be up at least sixty points before he captured the flighty golden ball if they wanted to have a good standing in the Quidditch Cup race. Kyla Jordan's spunky voice filled the crisp air, carrying well because of the small amount of wind. Draco wondered if her Gryffindor cousin had given her tips over the holiday, as on the whole, her commentary was bolder and more reminiscent of Lee's – meaning she was less complementary of Slytherin than ever.

The pitch was suffused with hints of great fervor growing around the Slytherin versus Gryffindor rematch. Usually it came down to those two teams for the Cup, but Ravenclaw was undaunted by the odds. As it stood, Gryffindor and Slytherin were at the bottom of the Quidditch barrel because they were missing a whole game's worth of points. Ravenclaw was at the top and was very determined to stay there.

Draco was determined to laugh in their faces when they didn't.

Wild cheering from the Slytherin stands drew his attention to the Ravenclaw goal posts where their Keeper was shooting dark looks at Ardin Crawe. As she flew by Draco, she smiled predatorily and he inclined his head at her to acknowledge her goal.

"Keep it up," he ordered before she was out of earshot.

"Yes, captain," she said sardonically, not bothering to look back.

"And the score is 10 zero in favor of Slytherin; goal scored by Ardin Crawe!" said Kyla, enervating the crowd once more. Pleased, Draco scanned the audience and assessed the situation. As usual, there was a low Gryffindor count present, but he'd assumed that Potter and the gang would be coming. Obviously Weasley's cockiness about the state of the Gryffindor team allowed him to miss a prime opportunity to spot a few new strategies Draco had come up with; of course he'd saved the better ones for the rematch, though.

Indifferently, Draco also searched for a smaller Weasley. It was not hard for him to see that she was not there, as she rather stood out. He idly searched the other teams' sections in the event that Ginny had chosen to sit with a friend from another House. She hadn't.

He shrugged off her absence and went back to looking at the opposition's Seeker. Cho Chang had taught her replacement to follow her old game tactics, and Draco could see that the fifth-year was trailing him in an affectation of nonchalance. Whenever Draco made the slightest move, the girl tailed him closely. Deciding to mess with her head a bit, Draco flew in a tight circle and then pointed his broom at a sharp angle toward the ground. True to form, the Ravenclaw Seeker snapped to attention and zipped eagerly behind him.

"And Malfoy spots the Snitch a mere twenty minutes into the game! We all thought he'd know better than to end it with such a small lead, but that's a Slytherin for you!

"Carpenter is hot on Malfoy's tail! Malfoy goes even steeper! Carpenter is practically breathing down Malfoy's back! Circe's pigs, what's this?! Carpenter's breathing in dirt! Yes, folks! Slytherin Seeker Draco Malfoy executed a neat Wronski Feint, which Shade Carpenter, Ravenclaw Seeker, fell for. So much for the reputed Ravenclaw brain power!"

There were various protests from the blue and gray side demanding that Kyla "shut her trap", and "keep her bias against Slytherin only, if she knew what was good for her".

"Some people just can't stand honest reporting," she said aside to McGonagall who told her to tone down the slurs.

The Ravenclaw Seeker got up a tad shakily, but dusted herself off and hopped back on her broom. In all the madness, Slytherin was able to secure another goal and Draco swooped over his team's box so that he could receive their fanatic acknowledgement of his successful diversion. Smiling wickedly, his attention was diverted when he saw a still figure watching him from the entrance onto the pitch.

It was Ginny.

Professor Martin was standing next to her, and when the older woman saw Draco eyeing them, she tapped Ginny's arm lightly and pointed at him. Ginny somewhat smiled at him and waved quickly. Martin smiled like a cat and led Ginny to the teacher's box.

"Get a move on, Malfoy! This isn't a bloody relaxation class!" Ardin shouted at him.

He turned his head to snap at her, but ducked when Millicent's bat swung viciously in the space where his head just was. He would have torn her apart had he not seen the Ravenclaw Beater a few feet away from him tip his bat in salutation and zip off. Draco nodded at Millicent and put his head back in the game, only sparing Ginny one more fleeting look.

Forty-five minutes later saw to it that Ravenclaw was in the lead, but only by one goal. Draco kept his team's energy up in the most effective way he could: insulting them.

"It looks like that half-breed gamekeeper is playing Chaser for us under disguise!" He shouted at Dominic Hooper. "Either that or someone transfigured a vat of cement in your likeness. One way or another, if you and Higgins don't start playing a real Quidditch game, this team is going to have two new reserve Chasers!"

Hooper adopted a stony look and snatched the quaffle from one of the Ravenclaw Chasers in what was a near foul. Gertrude Higgins flew parallel to him, and when one of the opposing team's Beaters flagged him down, Hooper tossed the quaffle over to Higgins, who launched it forward to Ardin Crawe, who was waiting patiently by Ravenclaw's goal posts. The Ravenclaw Keeper struggled to defend all the hoops, but to no avail – Ardin slammed it through a small opening in the middle one with her broom.

"And the score is tied!" Kyla declared.

"Better," said Draco to his players. "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep it up."

He turned his attention to the area around to where the teachers were sitting. He was just looking for the snitch, he told himself. He saw Ginny on her feet, clapping briefly before she sat down again. When he caught her eye she saluted him with a grin; he turned away, feeling heat creeping up his neck.

Suddenly there was a flash at the corner of his vision. Across the field he saw the other Seeker was oblivious to the tiny golden ball swerving madly in the air.

The snitch was easy pickings. Draco bore down on it as it struggled to keep ahead of him. The other Seeker snapped to attention and tried to make up for the loss of time. Draco could feel the wind rushing around him, the sound of Kyla's commentary was a mere blur and the feet upon the stands created a dull roar in the back of his mind. There was only a consistent flashing of gold before him. Just a bit more…

And then it was his.

Everything was clear and coherent again. Draco threw his hand in the air and jumped off of his broom. He had only been a short distance above the ground anyway.

He felt the arms of his teammates trying to lift him up and away to the party that would commence as soon as they retuned to the common room, but he was looking for someone. Through the haze of draping forest green sleeves and broomsticks, Draco thought that he might have spotted a wispy flash of red standing further back in the field. And were those dark eyes watching him?

But Nathaniel Crawe's euphoric pull along with the rest of the team's dragged him away.

He probably wouldn't see her again until Monday, he thought, wondering if she would take his silent departure as ingratitude…

Most likely not, Draco told himself firmly. It wasn't as if he could have thanked her in front of everyone anyway. There was time enough for a proper thank-you yet, and he would make sure she got it.

* * *

Several hours later, freshly showered and pleasantly buzzing on butterbeer that his head of house had provided for all, Draco sauntered easily through the corridors. His steps were quiet although it was a while yet before curfew. The Slytherin Quidditch team had neglected to go to dinner, choosing instead to order food up to the common room via house elf, so there was no need for him to go to the Great Hall.

Instead he found himself venturing into the part of the castle where he'd exchanged Christmas gifts with his partner-in-slander. It was dark and he barely recognized his surroundings. Maybe it would seem more familiar if there was an elusive sprig of mistletoe floating above his head…

Draco heard quick footsteps coming toward him from around the corner and he turned to see who it was. That strange warmth that he had been feeling for some time crept up like tipsiness on a New Year's party but he put it off to the butterbeer. Just as he'd put it off as potent heating charms during dinner when he'd thought of seeing _her_ at the game. At other times he was able to write it off as winter fever, or wearing too many layers, and he thanked the gods that he was so idiosyncratic or he might've run out of excuses. He would have been forced to _really_ define what the spiking of his temperature was; what made his palms sweat despite the fact that the Quidditch match was ages ago. What made his skin itch pleasantly and caused him to breathe faster…

But it was just the draftiness of the castle. Or the natural chill of the night. Or a ghoul passing by.

"Hello," Ginny greeted with a light smile, her hands shoved in the pockets of her robes. She was wearing casual clothes underneath the shabby black material and Draco thought that he spied dark Muggle jeans with a strange green jumper. It had an asymmetrical zipper and collar that was somewhat obstructed from view by the buttons high on her collarbone and a hood that gathered at the nape of her neck.

He nodded his head amiably in greeting and made a show of inspecting her clothing. "You're wearing my colors. I thought you were against supporting Slytherin," he stated archly.

"I wasn't supporting Slytherin – not directly," she rejoined. "I…well I was supporting _you_. And if a byproduct of that action meant cheering on the old green and silver, well…" she shrugged "I am but a twig in a fast moving stream, unable to prevent that turn of events."

He found himself smiling wryly at her take on the matter. "Nice way to put it."

"Why, thank you." She rocked back-and-forth on her feet. "Besides, I thought I should show more support than clapping with the rest of the crowd so that no one would notice me. But I don't own a Slytherin scarf or anything like that –"

"You do," Draco interrupted. "I gave you one. And am I not the very essence of Slytherin House?"

"That's true," she agreed. "But I finally had to put it in the wash; it was getting dirty and I didn't want it to be stained. All the same I think I was passable enough for a temporary supporter. Did I do you any good?"

"Maybe," he said slowly. "I'm not exactly sure. I was a bit distracted by this lovely girl in the stands…garish red hair, wicked brown eyes…I think she was sitting a few seats _away_ from you, actually. Do you know h –?"

Ginny smacked Draco on the arm and he held up his hands in defense. "You prat! You bet I know her!" she attested, trying hard not to laugh. "And she's not interested in you at all!"

"Oh?" asked the blond. "So she's got someone other than me?"

Ginny crossed her arms and half-turned away. "Well, I've heard rumors."

"All right then. Tell your friend that I propose we start some rumors of our own." said Draco, enjoying the flush of Ginny's skin that was almost hidden in the dim lighting.

"I'll do my best to relay the message," she said. Her eyes were lit up and he swallowed absentmindedly. Ginny was fidgeting with a loose thread and he was grateful that he was not the only one experiencing a bit of restiveness.

"I suppose all of this chit-chat has been leading up to my main point. It's to say 'thank you'," he admitted finally. Ginny opened her mouth but he plowed on before she could object. "And I know that you feel you were under orders from Professor Martin, but it was still very… You didn't have to – I don't know if _I_ would have."

"It was nothing, stop gushing," she said with a smirk. "I actually considered sitting with Slytherin very briefly, but then I came to my senses and sat with Professor Martin who offered to let me sit in the faculty section. Unfortunately it was next to the Ravenclaw fan box." Draco wondered if her sensitivity about that was due to the bloke she'd mentioned last time, Michael Corner. "The upside though, was that no one thought it strange for me to watch a Slytherin match. Ravenclaws are surprisingly impartial concerning House Rivalry as long as no one blatantly disputes their achievements." She shook her head at that as if it were something she'd thought on a lot, once.

Then there was more fidgeting. "I, er, waited for you afterward, but I realized that there must have been a follow-up party. All the same I'd really wanted to catch you…" she murmured.

"Why?" Draco asked. Ginny looked up, startled that he'd heard the end of her sentence. "I was only in my quidditch uniform, most likely sweaty and –" Ginny's face was heating up and she was very obviously embarrassed. Her shoulders were high in the air as she shoved her fists in her thin pockets as deep down as they would go. It caused an angular effect where her hair swung forward, casting shadow on her features. An idea clicked in Draco's mind.

"You wanted to _ogle_ me, didn't you?" he shot at her loudly, his amused voice echoing down the hall.

Ginny's head shot up even further and she stared at him, face burning. Then her chin jutted out defiantly. "I can't say that if you gave me the opportunity to do so I'd refuse." Draco eyebrows nearly disappeared, they went up so far. "Then again I'd not say no to _any_ bloke who offered me a peep at him in his quidditch kit."

The Seeker tried to shake off the comment. "Go and lump me in with the rest of them, then."

Ginny chuckled and ran a pale hand though her hair. "Oh, all right then, you're a fair flier, Malfoy. I might even venture to say great."

"Compared to Longbottom…?" he inquired.

"Compared to anyone," Ginny said straightforwardly. "Maybe even Harry, so stop fishing for compliments."

Draco smirked, satisfied. "Okay."

He waited a beat and then stepped forward with his own hands in their pockets, though much more at ease.

"I…just seeing you there… Honestly, you know what I mean, Weasley."

"Of course," said Ginny swiftly. "Because you're being so articulate about it and all."

Draco slowly closed the gap between their bodies and put a slightly cold hand to Ginny's neck, whereupon he began straightening her hood and collar out although she shivered at the contact.

"Sorry," he apologized quietly. "I just have this thing where I constantly do the opposite of what I really want…"

Ginny did a quick mental summation. The opposite of dressing was undres – oh…_ohh_…

"What about, er, thanking me?" she whispered.

There was a definite tilt in the corner of his mouth and he bent low that it was right by her lips. "No, no, I wanted that. Just like this…"

He kissed her cheek softly, holding her to him from under her shoulder blades so that she was compelled to hold him around the waist. He trailed his lips over to hers and held them there innocently. In a moment he increased the pressure and so Ginny angled her face so that she could get better access. Encouraged, he parted his mouth at the same time she did and –

"Is that _you_, Ginny?!"

The voice hit cold and sobering like snow that Ron threw at the back of her head. The effect hit Draco simultaneously and they both went still as a board in each other's arms. Ginny could hear a low hissing coming from between Draco's lips and she realized after a split second that he was swearing violently. Her eyes met his and she frowned.

"Really, though, if it's you, Ginny, can you answer me?" There was a nervous chuckle. "I wouldn't want to, er, break anything up if you're not my sister."

"_Dammit_," she muttered. Growling deep in her throat she turned around carefully so that most of Draco was indiscernible from behind her, his arms remained around her waist. "Ron, what of it if I _am_ your sister?"

He continued walking forward. "You needn't be so snappish that's what," he said, signaling vaguely behind him. "She's here! I've found her!" A few more indistinct bodies appeared from all the way down the hall. Ginny eventually made them out to be Harry, Hermione, and Colin and she nearly popped a blood vessel.

The four began heading for but her hand shot out.

"Stop! Er, stop right there!" she ordered.

"What _now_?" Draco demanded from just above her forehead, his head still slightly stooped.

"I don't know!" she whispered.

"Come on, Ginny!" Ron complained. "Hermione's given us an hour or so to look over the plays for our practice tomorrow morning. We've been looking everywhere for you. What've you been doing?"

Draco snorted softly. "As if it weren't obvious enough…"

"Do shut up," Ginny ordered.

"_What?!_" asked Ron, forced to raise his voice due to the distance.

"_Nothing_!" she began walking backward hoping that the cover of shadow could hide Draco until her brother and friends turned and walked away. Draco seemed to go along with it, too, until he suddenly stopped, causing her to be jostled from behind; he still held her tightly.

"There's a torch," he muttered.

Ginny understood; they'd see him if he stepped into the light. She vowed vengeance on her brother.

"Who's that bloke behind you?" rang Ron's voice. "He looks familiar."

"Yeah!" Colin piped up, coming forward once more.

"Stay right, there, Colin!" Ginny said. "I'm coming! He's, er, no one." Draco squeezed her waist and she squirmed in his hold.

"No one, eh?"

"You'd bloody well better behave yourself, Malfoy, or neither of us is going to get out of this unscathed. I swear I'll take you down with me."

"That's what I've been trying to get you to do!"

"Oh, way to romance me!"

"What is romance if not being plastered against my body while your brother tries to hold conversation at the same time?"

"What _are_ you saying, Ginny?!" Ron shouted. "Really, come on, now. You can bring your, er, man with you if you need to – he's in Gryffindor, right?"

"No, Ron! He in Ravenclaw!" she laughed with what she hoped was candidness. "Don't be silly, you're embarrassing him. He's a covert Gryffindor fan and was just giving me his condolences because Slytherin won."

"I just found out myself," called Ron from down the hall. "And that's why we've got to go over our formations! Well, we can once you get rid of the Ravenclaw."

"Don't be rude!" Ginny heard Hermione say sharply. "He's obviously very shy…" She turned in their direction and squinted very hard, trying to make out some of his features. "If you don't mind me asking, what is your name?"

"You're not going to get that it out of him!" Ginny filled in. "Like you said, he's very shy, aren't you, Muffleldkmkmuck Budnum?"

She skewed the end of her sentence purposefully so that her four friends up ahead would remain in the dark – literally and figuratively. "But we were just finishing our conversation." She turned to Draco Muffleldkmkmuck Budnum. "Weren't we?"

Draco nodded overeagerly with a wide grin that only she could see and Ginny glared at him fiercely.

"All right then," shouted, Ron, trading wary looks with Harry who seemed less gloomy when there was a prospect of flying. Ginny wasn't worried, though; Ron was probably only concerned that the 'Ravenclaw' was a spy sent to beguile Ginny in order to coerce secrets from her. She was made more uneasy by Colin – or rather Colin's silence. "Once you wrap up with er, Maddlezuntick, meet Harry and me in the common room. The whole team is going to be there."

"Just give me a quarter of an hour!" Ginny shouted back, as her best friend, her brother and his friends turned back around the corner.

A quick five minutes saw to it that Draco was sent off safely in the opposite direction of the Gryffindor crew, bidding Ginny goodbye in the same uncommunicative tone that he had greeted her with. With no more proffered kisses, Ginny made it just in time to catch the beginning of Ron's tirade,

"I see before me a team that is motivated – at least when harassed – and one that is dedicated to winning. I see a talented team that will overcome Slytherin's feeble lead on the House Cup. But I also see that we will overcome that and smash their ratty little faces in the mud, because I. See. _All_!"

* * *

The rest of the weekend had passed very quickly for Ginny.

Practice Sunday morning had gone off without a hitch despite Ron's multiple assurances that there was no possible way on earth for the team to learn the glorious plays he had come up with by their next game. At least not unless they gave up their free time and after-meal times to practice. That option was shut down with several stony glares. However, by the end of practice, they had successfully pulled off two plays and had started on a third.

Those were the least of Ginny's worries.

Matters concerning Draco had stagnated throughout the weekend, as she had not seen hide or hair of him all of Sunday. For that she was somewhat grateful. Along with Quidditch, Ron had been babbling nonstop about Ginny's Ravenclaw admirer despite her assurances that it was a one-time only occurrence. That had only made it worse. Colin had informed her that Ron wanted him to look out for Ginny a bit – only for short while! – Just to make sure that her head stayed in the game and away from "unsavory male groupies". Privately and a bit guiltily, Ginny thought Draco a savory enough person on the whole…

Ron had spent a lot of time thinking on what it meant to have Ginny as a Chaser – Chasers were always targets for unwelcome sexual advances, he'd surmised. And he had no intention of letting any sister of his fall prey to their deceit.

Besides, Muptlefudnick or whatever his name was, had seemed too shy for Ginny; he'd not addressed anyone at all, save that really odd, twisted sort of nodding. It was all very strange.

It was rather strange for Ginny, too. Her dreams raged with the most unlikely of scenarios – all of them included Draco. There was Draco with his shirt off. There was Draco with his belt being loosened by her frantic fingers. There was Draco on top of her. And all of fantasies – er, dreams – ended with someone walking in and interrupting them! Lark asking her a question about Charms. Hermione offering to tutor her for the NEWTs. Colin wanting to take pictures. Ron wanting to discuss strategy. Professor Martin asking her to bear her effing soul. Dumbledore smiling knowingly and offering sodding lemon drops.

Dobby delivering tea…

It was taking such a toll on her to the point where she was afraid to play the whole sexual attraction game with Draco, lest someone horrid like her mother or Lucius Malfoy catch them! Not that her mother was horrid…not that Lucius Malfoy wasn't…

The trump card of it all was that evidently, Draco wasn't seeing it that way. He was taking every opportunity he could to corner her, or brush up against her, or look at her insinuatingly. She'd never been so hot and bothered in her life, except for when she went to visit Bill in Egypt and the twins kept trying to bury her underwear in the sand.

"You know," said Draco, interrupting the quiet of the room, "from this position if I turned my head I could see up your skirt."

Ginny was sitting cross-legged on the couch she favored so much with her shoes by the door. Earlier, her robes had been thrown on the arm of the sofa as she tried to get comfortable, and Draco had decided to sit cross-legged on the floor just under her. Although she'd assured herself that her skirt was draped over the edges of her knees, effectively cutting off any knicker-peeking activity, her doubts were still there. And Draco had just voiced them.

Ginny nodded with interest. "From this position, I could snap your neck if you did."

Draco winced and kept his head forward. "Interesting."

"I like to think so."

After a few more minutes he rubbed his eyes and moved his head from side to side on Ginny's calves.

"Stop that," Ginny ordered firmly, smacking his scalp with the quill. "It itches." That was a lie if ever there was one. It was actually quite nice. But it was also too nice for her tastes.

"No," he said, and continued to move his head around.

"Are you hard of hearing?" Ginny asked losing patience.

"Sure."

Mouth pressed into a thin line Ginny smacked him a hard one on the head once more and Draco yelped with pain. He reflexively grabbed Ginny's wrist and the quill fell from her hand into his lap.

"I warned you," she said firmly, easing her hand out of his grip and reaching for the quill, her face now beside his. She stopped when she saw his surprised face: she was reaching between his legs.

Ginny left the quill in its new home and snatched her hand away. "Shut up."

He chuckled deeply. "Trying to get the snake?"

Ginny sniffed. "Seemed more like a tadpole to me."

He smirked meaningfully into her eyes. . She could see the specks of blue in his they were so close.

"Ginny?" he asked.

"Yes?" she questioned. She never figured that he was the kind of boy to _ask_ for kisses.

He licked his lips. "May I…may I…look up your skirt?"

Ginny's eyebrows shot up into her hairline and she roughly shoved Draco forward so that his head almost hit the table.

"Damnit, Weasley!"

"So it's Weasley, now, eh?" she asked furiously, getting a fresh quill from her rucksack on the cushion behind her. "You're sick, you know."

"All right, sorry," said Draco, snickering. He didn't look apologetic in the least and once more to lean his head on Ginny's legs. She pushed him forward.

After several failed attempts he quit. "You know, this fun game was actually a pretense to my asking for a massage."

Ginny gave him a long look and laughed. "No!"

He frowned. "Why not?"

"Why should I?"

"Why shouldn't you?"

"Well, because I said no!" she sputtered.

Draco's frown deepened and he shifted unconsciously on the carpeted floor. When Ginny had reached down for her quill she didn't realize it, but she had brushed his inner thigh. The blond's awareness of her had come back full-force, and he remembered their interruption two nights before. Actually, he had spent most of the weekend thinking about it, knowing that Ginny was eager to finish but would never initiate.

So he thought of a massage. It was innocent enough, right? He would get to feel her hands rubbing deeply into his shoulders and his neck; her hair would form a curtain around their faces; the valley down the opening of her shirt would be available for….

"Absolutely not," Ginny finished.

"I'm not going to say please."

"It wouldn't have mattered if you did."

"Please?"

"Piss off."

"I'm really tense…"

"Hop off a cliff, free-falling is relaxing. Muggles do it all the time."

"Do I look like a blooming Muggle to you? Everyone knows they're off their rockers anyway." Ginny went on writing. "Look, you don't have a reason not to; you didn't even consider it fully."

"Let's pretend then that 'no' can be both a reason _and_ an answer. Shall we put it into a sentence, then? Why won't I do your back? The reason is: because I said 'no'. So it follows that my answer is…?"

"Is it because I make you uncomfortable? It's rather hard to turn down the sex waves, you know. _You_ just try regulating your alluringness for hours on end; it gives you knots in the shoulders."

"Come on, Malfoy, I'll give you three guesses," Ginny insisted, ignoring his comment. "Here's a hint: the answer is 'no'."

He was silent for a long two minutes in which Ginny shot amused glances at him – none of which he missed.

"You're taking peeks at me, don't think I can't tell."

"I never said I was trying to hide it," said Ginny.

"So you're over your shyness now, and you'll give me a rub?" His face was the image of reason, free from all traces of sexual allusion.

"What part of 'no' don't you understand?" Ginny asked exasperatedly.

Draco appeared thoughtful. "The part where the 'n' meets the 'o' to form a word meaning that I don't get what I want."

A smile curved along Ginny's lips and she tried to cover it with her Transfiguration textbook. Taking that as a good sign, Draco pulled the book from her fingers and threw it across the room near the door.

Insulted, Ginny got up from the sofa and went after it. "Don't chuck my things around like they're rubbish!" she yelled, picking the offended object up and dusting it off exaggeratedly, fixing an imaginary dent. He walked over to Ginny and took her by the hand.

"I'm sorry, dear. I forgot that you pay so very much for your beloved second-hand books."

"Well, you'd do well to remember it next time." She set it down on the desk, studiously ignoring the fact that he was pulling her closer.

"I apologize," he repeated.

"You're absolutely demented and you're going to do something insolent in the future, so save your sorries."

"I might have to use one very soon."

Ginny licked her lips. "Because you're a sick-minded individual or because your hand's creeping up my back?"

He grinned crookedly. "Oh, you're right. Two more, then."

Oh god he was_ right there…_

"Look, Draco. Colin said that Ron said…that he's letting Colin keep tabs…keep tabs on me…" It was very difficult to speak when one's skin was being stroked.

"Ahh, _now_ I understand…but this is all I wanted you to do," he whispered against her lips so seductively that she felt faint. "And what Colin can't see won't make me hurt him, will it?"

"Don't threaten my friends…" she told him closing her eyes right before their noses brushed. She could feel something smooth and moist against her bottom lip as Draco's tongue slid over it. A soft nip made her eyes flutter back open.

"No one's coming, Ginny," he said.

Ginny nodded. The door was locked. They were alone.

She slid her arms around his neck and reconnected eagerly. There were no more small kisses on the cheek or at the corners of the mouth; those were preliminary niceties, and Ginny would be damned if she would wait go through those again. Instead the two picked up right where they had left off on Saturday night.

Draco gripped Ginny's hips reflexively when her tongue flicked against his and searched for somewhere to sit. The closest seat available was Professor Martin's chair, so he collapsed on top of it, taking Ginny with him. The chair tipped forward then back as she straddled him; it finally came to rest on its hind legs, the post of the chair against the crème walls.

It definitely wasn't stable as they rocked slowly against each other, not really minding the fact that they were smushing weeks of pent up frustration into a few measly minutes and what that might lead to. Adrenaline shot up Ginny's spine as she absently thought of the precariousness of their position – the chair could crash down at any moment. The students in The Room below would put their hands over their hearts and sigh with melancholy. _"Those two finally did each other in,"_ they would say. If only they knew the half of it.

Ginny broke away from Draco's lips, struggling to catch her breath.

"Are…are you all right?" he barely managed to ask.

She nodded quickly, her eyes half-closed as his hand stroked up and down her thigh, going higher each time until it disappeared under her skirt and went to the waistband where she sometimes kept her wand. Molly Weasley got her daughter's uniforms secondhand, and the older skirts didn't have pockets like the newer ones. When Ginny wasn't using her wand she sometimes kept it in the loose space between the top of the skirt and her hip although her mother chastised her for it. Ginny realized that Draco obviously favored that spot; he was being awfully kind to it.

"Oh gods, yes. Yes I think so," she breathed.

"You think?" he questioned teasingly, enjoying the deep pinkness of her cheeks.

Ginny almost tipped the chair over on purpose. It would serve him right to land smack dab on his head for all of his bloody arrogance.

Luckily for Draco, though, Ginny allowed herself to be pulled back against him whereupon he kissed her hard and unflinchingly. All that Ginny could remember for a several minutes or so was that she _couldn't_ remember anything; that blank phase was only broken when Draco switched to her neck and his shallow breathing reached her ears.

_Dumbledore's beard!_ She thought. _Why on _earth_ did mothers not warn their daughters that the evil ones were so revoltingly tempting?!_ It seemed a very stupid thing to her that all the good men out there were probably not half as talented at such matters as Draco.

She was lucky.

"Oh…" she moaned.

Yes, very lucky.

Those good men were not as equipped to enter the world and inappropriately seduce girls without the kind of, er, charms that Draco possessed. She felt awfully sorry for all the normal girls out there who did not have a Draco Malfoy to…reconcile their differences with, or talk to. And boy was Draco a good…talker. He was practically motivationally speaking to her body!

As their kiss deepened once more Ginny pressed herself against the Slytherin Seeker and he moved his hand to grip her bottom. After a minute, though, he went still rather suddenly.

The chair wobbled dubiously.

"If…if we continue along this way I'll owe you another apology," he said against her ear once more, half amused, half excited. Ginny opened her eyes and considered his statement. She peeked down as their joined middle and then back up to where his eyebrow was arched in entertainment.

"Couldn't take my word for it?" He took hold of Ginny's waist and swung the chair forward so that it was back on all four legs. Taking one last peek at him Ginny flushed lightly and shifted around so that she was sitting normally on his lap – or at least as normal as it was for her to sit on Draco Malfoy's lap at all.

As she glossed over the finer parts of the end of their afternoon, she felt Draco's lips beginning to wander down the back of her neck once more and decided that sitting on a surface other than Slytherin skin might be a good idea.

"Suit yourself," said Draco, when Ginny sat across from him on the polished wood surface of Martin's table. He opted to lean back in the rickety chair to watch the redhead in front of him with curious eyes (and profound satisfaction). He waited until his breathing was even once more to speak again.

"I think one of us should fix this miserable thing," he stated simply. "A simple Strengthening Charm would do."

Despite herself Ginny grinned, proud that only the tips of her ears were still pink.

"That should teach your berk of a best friend to keep tabs on you – sexual repression only leads to madness." This time she kicked him in the shin.

They reclined in suspended silence for a while, a maelstrom of thoughts going through each of their minds while they grew tardier for class. The matter of lateness seemed rather trivial after such mind-boggling progress. The prospect of speaking normally was quite a challenge for Ginny, so she attempted to speak with him in a noncommittal code.

"My scarf should be back from the laundry tomorrow. I might wear it," she said.

_It seems overwhelmingly stupid to me that after all of…this, we won't even be able to speak to one other tomorrow since its Tuesday._

Draco shrugged. "Wear if you want – don't put it to waste. I didn't buy it for you to warm the hooks of your armoire with."

_I'm forced to admit that I agree – I wouldn't mind being this productive everyday. All the same, if you wear the scarf I'll be able to imagine what you'd look like in only that scarf. Also, I could get a better mental picture of the kinds of things we could do with a scarf and a private room with a locked door._

"I'll do what I want with my hooks, thanks very much," said Ginny. _Keep your mind out of the gutter you!_

"All my gold will down the drain just because you're not used to such finery." _No thank you, I rather enjoy lounging in my lasciviousness on occasion._

"Pompous arse…" Ginny muttered. _Oversexed hound…_

"Ah, touché," said Draco with a smirk. _Just be lucky I'm not pawing under your skirt right now._

"I always regret trying to engage in sensible conversation with you." _Would you shut your trap for a kiss?_

"Don't ask questions that are fairly obvious, Weasel." _You should have been back here ten seconds ago. You're lucky I only –_

…

…

…

…

"How's that for obvious?" _Ahem. Wasn't that better than spouting off lewd come ons?_

"I might actually concede to you being far more alluring than I, Wheezy-girl." _I'm not sure; try again._

…

…

…

_I most definitely concede._

…

…

…

……………

* * *

Eyes closed, body humming, Ginny smiled against Draco's parted mouth when he paused for breath. He tried not to do the same.

* * *

End of the chapter!

"Other than you!" accused Ginny. "Harry has a lot to be upset about!" That line was partly inspired by Cassandra Claire's, _A Lot to be Upset About_. It is one of my favorite one-shots of all time though it's not posted at It contains D/G goodness and ANGRY!Harry (who actually steals the show in my opinion), so check it out.. Anyway, here are the:

Replies:

**potatomaker** I love long reviews! Especially when they're as specific as yours was, so thanks very, very much. I really didn't want them to be all over each other (until this chapter, at least, lol) and I'm glad you agreed. It would have been weird to me for them to burst out in amorous rhapsody just because they haven't seen each other in a few weeks. Thanks again. **dejena** Sorry! This one should make you feel a little better…muahaha **Audrey** Ahh! I'm actually blushing! Thank you so much. Um, you can sign up for author alerts and that should notify you. I think I sent you an email saying that, actually…but I'm not sure it got sent because my emails kind of weird. Sorry the chapter took so long! **chicklepea** Am I allowed to come back from the fairyland? I've updated!! **FickleFickleMuse** I'm glad you liked it. I understand about the slow progress, though, and I considered having them admit whatever feelings they're getting, but it sounded weird and felt too early for me. I promise it's coming up though. Honest! Thanks for reviewing. **Katie Richards** Thanks! I hope you get the email…er, actually, you must have if you're reading this. Don't mind my slowness, it's half past two. **xxbabysparklesxx** Thankee! **Wander Aimlessly** Is _this_ long enough for you?? Lmao, this is actually criminally long for me. I hope it didn't drag on. Thanks for reviewing. **montequilladecacahuate** I really aim to have the next chapter up faster. And since I'm on break now, it should be up much quicker than this one. But onto more important things, I must agree…I do love a yummy Draco… **redhaired** Are you really? Redhaired, I mean? I love that color. Thanks! **kittybro** Unfortunately, this didn't come soon, per se, but here it is nonetheless! **rachel** Thanks! **Dweeb** I know! I'll be sad when this draws to a close, but I've got a few of the ending scenes configured already. I guess I've taken long enough, though, hahaha. But WHY am I talking about it ending? That's not happening for a bit yet. Thanks always for your reviews! **shelly2** Thank you!!!!! **Isadora** You made me smile abnormally largely. Thanks a bunch. **Stormy Nights** Wooh, nice name. Here's more. **LovingFanFics** Wow. That is definitely a great compliment, and hopefully we'll get to see D and G's real 'mother' at work when Book 6 comes out. (Hopefully very, very soon) **mell8** Thanks a lot! **intoxicatedapple** Loving your name, thanks for reviewing! **Lirie Halliwell** I kind of like that one myself, thanks sooooo much for reviewing!

All right. Sorry if your response sort of tapered off, especially the one's at the end. I'm running out of steam. And now I'm sending it out to all of you…Thanks again in general to all of you. Please keep the comments, suggestions, and love coming! Oh, and if I don't update before then, Happy Holidays to you all!!

- - Femme


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